Military planes weren't much fun to ride on - well, they were the first two or three times. After that, they weren't much fun. They were nowhere near as safe or comfortable as civilian airplanes. The first thing you noticed straight off was the lack of walls. It was a big, noisy, open space - a gutted, flying silver bullet. Without any barriers or dividers to section off the plane they could load any shape or size cargo they wanted - a necessity when transporting large numbers of vehicles, artillery, and personnel. The outer walls of the plane were left bare. The pilots and crews manning these aircrafts didn't have time for paneling and decoration; they needed the wires exposed for quick changes and repairs. Even the personnel seats themselves seemed to be designed like an uncomfortable after thought. They were scattered along the walls of the plane, some grouped together and others spaced apart. They were built from steel piping and thick strips of fabric. The bars were wielded to the plane, and folded out of the way to allow more room for cargo. Most Marines couldn't handle sitting in them for extended periods of time, and often found alternative places to settle once the plane reached cruising altitudes.

A young Marine in uniform emerged from behind the door of the cockpit. He looked a little young to be a co-pilot, but not at all nervous or unsure. Marines were never unsure of themselves. He made his way down a short flight of stairs and over to a slightly older looking man seated off to the side, staring into space.

"Sergeant Timberlake?" He spoke.

The man's eyes landed on the younger solider and gave him a questioning glance.

"We are 30 minutes outside of the air field, sir."

The man nodded, effectively dismissing the younger Marine. When the door to the cockpit closed again Staff Sergeant Justin Timberlake looked over at his unit. They'd scattered themselves out amongst the cargo. Some sat in groups on the floor playing poker and blackjack.

Others were going through their packs: checking and rechecking their gear, looking at photos and video recordings from the field. The general mood was cheery and excited, thick with relief. They were finally going home after an 11-month deployment.

Timberlake stood up from his seat and called the attention of the other men.

"Alright men, we will be landing soon. Don't forget we report for drill two weeks from today at 0700hrs. I expect each and every one of you to be on time, cammies on - sans the hangovers. Understand?" His voice was commanding and authoritative, a byproduct of having already spent more than 6 years in the Corps.

"Oorah!" They replied in unison.

"Any questions? Now is the time to ask them."

He hadn't anticipated any, and moved to dismiss, but a hand shot into the air.

"Serge!!" A red headed man called out.

Justin straightened up and looked down at him with annoyance. It was Corporal Billingsley, their version of a class clown.

"What is it Billingsley?"

Before Billingsley could speak another Marine shouted out. It was his sidekick, Lance Corporal Wilson.

"Why are you so quiet Serge?"

Timberlake rolled his eyes.

"I don't talk because you talk enough for the both of us, Wilson."

The rest of the unit laughed and Wilson shook his head.

"That wasn't my question, Serge," Billingsley said.

"Well, spit it out."

"I, uh, I was just wondering if you're planning on having a girl waiting for you when we land? Or, is it going to be your Dad again?"

"Yeah, Serge, how come we never hear you talk about a girl, or see a woman coming to get you? Aren't you lonely over there poor Serge?" Wilson mocked.

The rest of the men laughed.

"A year in the field, those pipes gotta need some kind of cleaning out!" Someone else yelled.

That caused the Marines to fall into a fit of laughter, muttering in agreement to themselves. For as long as the Serge had been leading them there hadn't been a girl around, not even a pathetic tag chaser just looking to bang a man in uniform. The Serge was handsome enough, and seemed down to earth. He could get any girl he wanted, but it was becoming more and more apparent that he didn't want any.

Timberlake rolled his eyes internally as he waited for them to settle down, but didn't crack a smile or show any sign of emotion.

When they were quiet enough he said, "You've never seen my woman because your mom is too worried about how you would feel finding out that I'm your real daddy."

Wilson's face turned beet red as the other men burst out in laughter.

"As you were," Timberlake said.

"Awe, pick up your face Wilson," one of the men teased.

As the men began to gather their belongings Timberlake returned to his seat. He turned to a small window on his right. All he could see were clouds and blue skies. It was calm and peaceful, a far contrast from the conditions surrounding the mission he was returning from.

Events from the past year flashed through his mind. Some were happy: helping children and families, making friends with locals. Of course, kicking the shit out of the enemy and blowing things up were always a good time, too. It was no coincidence that he'd joined one of the only professions in the world where you got to spend all day making things go BOOM! But, some memories were not so happy. Some were violent and tragic. This had been his third deployment for the Marine Corps, but it was by far the most difficult.

He reached into a side pocket in his jacket and pulled out a photograph. It was of him and his best friend, fellow Marine Staff Sergeant Chad Willings. The two had joined the service together fresh out of high school, for the most part. They returned from every mission side by side, except for this one. Chad had fallen victim to a suicide bomber six months before the mission was deemed complete...

"I can't wait to get home, fire up the grill, and drink a couple of beers. Get some ass... Yes...." Willings reminisced.

Justin chuckled as he walked beside him. They were patrolling a small village in Afghanistan, clearing a path for the Army to come in and set up more permanent housing and begin peace talks with the tribal leaders. The goal was to unite all of the Afghan villages so they could better defend themselves against intruding Al Qaeda forces.

The pair was moving steadily along, despite the blistering sun. Timberlake was watching the crowd on the left and Willings was scanning to the right. Both moved with rifles in hand but pointed to the ground. Two more two-man teams and an IED resilient vehicle called the Buffalo crept along behind them, ready to provide cover for the two Staff Sergeants and constantly reporting their position to the powers that be.

"What do you plan on doing?" Willings asked.

Justin shrugged in response. He hadn't thought much about it. He hadn't been home with his family in California since joining the service. Right after boot camp he'd been based on the East coast. Out of the past four years of his life he'd spent three of them overseas.

"Shit, I don't know, man."

"Come on J, we only have six months left until we're state-side again. You've got to have something you want to do, or something you're looking forward to when you get back." Willings pulled a towel from his pocket and began to wipe the sweat from his dark brown skin. "At least say you want to try to find a nice honey to lie with."

Both men laughed, and Justin shook his head.

"Chad, man, not everyone thinks about ass all the time. Besides, maybe I don't want to find just anybody, man. Maybe I want a real woman."

Willings rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you're one of those soft sentimental type cats. Alright, I feel you. But, damn son you need to think about getting some type of ass in the meantime. A year of this shit, and this fuckin' heat, with no women, is enough to drive a man crazy. This lotion and internet porn shit isn't cutting it."

Justin scrunched up his face at the mental picture. Willings cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow.

"Naw, man, come on. We're being real here. There ain't any females around, for real. The only enlisted females are traveling with the Army, and it's still against conduct to touch them even if we did get close to their camp. But, you remember old girl back home I was telling you about? Monica Sanchez?"

"Ha, how can I not remember? You're constantly talking about her."

Justin was talking, but his eyes were trained on a group of kids crossing their path. They were chasing after each other and sword fighting with sticks. He couldn't help but smirk.

"Yeah, man, that honey is down for a brotha like me. She never misses a beat. I'm always getting letters from her; she's always there when I call or video chat. Plus, her sex game is tight man. I'm just letting you know I am going to murk that when I get home."

Justin looked confused.

"Murk?"

Willings rolled his eyes and dropped his rifle momentarily.

"Son, murk means the same thing as -let's see- kill that, beat that, smash that, murder that pussy."

"Okay, I get it," Timberlake said.

Gross.

He should have known with Willings. Even though he and Chad had been friends for years it seemed like Chad was always using a new word or phrase when they talked.

"Good. Keep up, white boy."

Justin rolled his eyes.

"That's if Jody doesn't get to her first."

Chad sucked his teeth and tilted his head to the side.

"Man, fuck Jody."

The convoy continued down the road, the rocks and debris crunching underneath their boots and tires. As they walked on, scanning the rooftops and doorways, they noticed a woman up the road. She wore a long black dress, with red pants underneath, and a red scarf covering her hair. She was struggling with a basket of food and various bags of goodies from the nearby market place. They watched for a moment as the woman paused, attempted to hold onto her balance, and then dropped all of the bags. Her items spilled out onto the dirt road and she let out a visibly heavy sigh.

"Hold on, man. Let me go help her out."

Willings signaled with his hand for the convoy to halt before heading toward the older woman.

"Willings!" Timberlake called. "We don't have time for this!"

Willings, who'd begun a lazy jog toward the woman, turned back with a smile.

"Good opportunity to do some community service! It might get us some Haji's on our side."

Justin, looking for a shady place to sit down, headed for a rundown building and sat on the front steps. The other Marines remained in their formation. Some took a knee to rest; others used the break as an opportunity to guzzle water. It was hot wearing all that battle rattle, Kevlar wasn't exactly breathable. For a moment Justin just stared off into space, thinking about his conversation with Willings.

Truthfully he really hadn't given much thought to what he was going to do when he got back home. Maybe Willings was right, maybe he did need to find a girl. There was no telling if and when the 'right one' was going to show up. It could be months, years, maybe never. It'd be nice to have someone to share dinner with while waiting on forever to arrive.

Justin turned his glance over to Sergeant Willings. He was chatting with the old woman - well, he was attempting too. Their civilian translator had been temporarily reassigned to another unit for the day, so the language barrier was preventing the two from communicating effectively. Justin just smiled for a moment, watching at Willings resorted to hand movements. He was trying to explain to the woman that he was helping her to the side of the road. The group of children sword fighting with their sticks moved toward Willings, attempting to show off their defensive skills to the Americans. He smiled at the kids as they ran around him in a circle, taking him prisoner.

A sudden drop in altitude rattled the plane, yanking the Sergeant back into the present. The clicking and clacking of metal upon metal sounded through the belly of the plane, barely audible over the roars of the engines. Justin pinched the bridge of his nose as his head began to throb. He hated the flashbacks, hated the migraines that he got when he thought about that day. He sighed as he looked down at the picture of himself and his best friend posing in front of their first forward operating base, rifles in hand, looking like two badasses still wet behind the ears.

"Am I going to daycare today, or do I have to go with grandma?"

Chloe's face was pure annoyance and irritation as she muttered the word grandma, almost as if the syllables left a dirty, dry taste in her mouth. Being a hyperactive, energetic first grader Chloe liked to stay at her school daycare and play with the other kids from her class. Staying with grandma after school meant she had to finish her homework early, and was limited to only playing with the other kids from her apartment complex. She didn't care for them very much. They picked on her for being tall and rail thin, an attribute she inherited from her Dad. They also shunned her over her curiosity and love of learning, something she got from her Mother. She'd also gotten her Mom's bright eyes, warm skin, and white smile. Her Dad had given her a head full of thick curly hair, long legs, and a love of outdoors and athletics. One of her favorite things to do was spend the afternoon playing basketball with Daddy, and the evening reading inside with Mommy. Well, that used to be one of her favorite things to do....

"I'm going to pick you up after school and bring you to grandma, because I'm going to be working late at the store tonight."

Chloe's eyes rolled and she fired a cheerio from her cereal bowl at the garbage can across the room. Direct hit! It would serve her Mom right if she dumped all the cheerios in the garbage. She kept telling Morgan she didn't like the plain cheerios, but Morgan kept buying them anyway.

"Can I wear my Hannah Montana shoes?"

Morgan's brow furrowed as she flipped through a stack of bills on the kitchen counter. She wanted to listen to her daughter, but first she needed to find the PG&E bill. It was here yesterday....

"Mommy?!"

Chloe's stubborn voice finally pulled her into reality.

"What?"

"I said can I wear my Hannah Montana shoes? I want to wear them."

"Well that's nice Chlo, but we threw those away while we were packing, remember?"

Big brown eyes stared blankly at Morgan before lowering to the ground. The six-year old thought carefully. Hannah Montana shoes were the only ones she'd envisioned completing her ensemble of a pink sun dress and a pink and white striped fedora. Her mom may not have had a lot of money, but she bargain shopped like no other and her little girl was always well-dressed and fashionable.

"What about my pink sparkly ones?" Chloe asked finally.

Morgan, anxious to find the bill so they could finish breakfast and get out the door, waved to Chloe and gave her a nod.

"Those we still have. They're under your bed. Do we keep shoes under the bed?"

"Nope."

"Where do shoes go?"

Chloe was too distracted to reply. She was already making her way out of the kitchen, and into her bedroom.

"Chloe?"

Morgan's only reply was the sound of her daughter's socks as she skipped over the beige carpet.

After dropping Chloe off at school Morgan headed to her first job of the day. Being a working, newly single Mom she needed a lot of hours to make ends meet. Things were never easy for anyone who becomes a parent at 19 years old, but they'd never been quite this hard for her before either. This was in large part due to the fact that her lazy, good for nothing baby Daddy, Devin, wasn't keeping up his end of the financial deal. He'd been ordered by a family court to pay child support, but for the past two months he'd been withholding it, claiming Morgan had denied him access to Chloe. She wasn't denying him access; she was simply asking him to be reasonable. He wanted Chloe during inconvenient times, like during school hours, when she already had a play date with friends or a planned Mother/Daughter day with Morgan. Was it too much to ask that he plan ahead and give his time with his daughter a little extra thought?

That morning Morgan was working at the Shell gas station a few miles from her apartment. It wasn't her main job, just something she did on the side to gain a little extra money. It came in handy for Chloe's surprise needs - like her recent trip to the ER after falling off a swing set, the time she needed to an extra twenty bucks for a special science class after school, or a flashy new pair of ill-fated Hannah Montana sneakers. It wasn't the best job in the world, the hours went by slowly and Morgan was underpaid, but it served its purpose.

Morgan was steadily making her way through a long line or anxious customers when the phone let out a shrill ring.

"Thank you for calling Shell. This is Morgan, how may I help you?"

"You can help me by giving me my damn child, you stupid bitch."

Morgan slammed down the phone, causing the customers in the store to look up at her. She cast down her eyes down at the register and sighed heavily.

"He's got to be kidding me," she whispered. "Fucking kidding me."

That was the fourth call in only a matter of minutes. Earlier he'd distracted her so badly she'd mishandled a transaction and some lucky customer ended up with an extra 4 gallons of free gas. That was a mistake her employer couldn't afford many of, especially considering the ever increasing cost of gas across the country lately. Normally Devin only acted like this when something happened to set him off. Morgan couldn't think of anything she'd done lately... Looking at the watch on her wrist she noticed it was nearly 2:30p.m. It was time for her to head to the school and pick up Chloe.

Morgan finished the customers in line, and then began to gather her things.

"Alright Jasmine, I'm getting ready to head out," Morgan called.

She pushed her black hair back from her round face and put on her white shades as frizzy blonde made her way from the stock room.

"Morgan. May I speak with you for a second?"

Morgan sighed softly and followed Jasmine into the back. This couldn't be good.

"Yes Ma'am?"

Jasmine looked at her apprehensively.

"I know a lot has been going on with you at home and with your court situation…"

Inwardly Morgan rolled her eyes. She hated when people fiend sympathy to her. She knew deep down at the end of the day that no one really cared.

"...But the calls from child's father are becoming more frequent. That's beginning to worry some of your co-workers, as well as my boss. They fear that this situation may be come more than you can handle, and frankly I am beginning to worry about your productivity at work because of this matter. I noticed your little slip earlier with pump eight."

"Ms. Jasmine, I assure that it won't affect anything in this station. I apologize for the inconvenience, and the concerns this situation may cause. I realize that this looks very unprofessional, but you have to understand that I cannot control Devin's actions. I promise you I will handle this."

Morgan's reply was quick in hopes that it would both reassure Jasmine and end the conversation. Very shortly Chloe was going to be waiting for her in the school parking lot, and she hated when her Mom was late.

Jasmine frowned, fiddling with the gold chain around her neck.

"I understand your confidence, Morgan, I do. But, it is my responsibility to assure that the work place is not a hostile environment, and you cannot guarantee that. As you said yourself you can't control Devin's actions. For that reason -I'm sorry- but I'm going to have to let you go."

Morgan was noticeably taken back a little. She stared at Jasmine for a moment, taking deep breathes and trying to get a handle on her thoughts.

"I understand. Sorry," she said.

Devin was ruining her life in every way possible. First he'd gotten them evicted from the apartment they once shared, and then the gas tank on her VW Jetta had been mysteriously filled with sugar. The engine was subsequently ruined, and she was stuck taking the bus for a month before finally being able to finance a new vehicle, a green Jeep Cherokee. Now, Devin was costing her this job.

Jasmine eyed the young girl hesitantly before continuing.

"I've overheard some of the phone calls, and so have some of your co-workers," she spoke softly. "He sounds, I don't know, unstable? I hope you handle this situation before something happens to either of you."

Morgan only nodded in response. What was there for her to say? Devin was crazy and everyone knew it, but knowing the facts didn't change them. After a moment Jasmine nodded, and stepped aside. Morgan grabbed her purse and bee lined it for the front door.

"As if I need this shit right now," she muttered aloud.

It was after 10pm. The sun had set a few hours ago, and the stiflingly hot temperature of day had given way to a comfortably warm evening. It was the beginning of September, the end of summer. School had started just a few weeks ago, and the high school kids were still hanging out in the parking lot, refusing to accept the inevitable end of their vacation.

Morgan sat on the porch of her apartment, looking out at the grassy knoll that blocked the swimming pool from her view. She'd been living in this two-bedroom apartment with Chloe for exactly two months now. Both girls had preferred their old place, the one they shared with Devin. It was a two-story; with French doors and a wooden banister that Chloe liked to slide down on her way to breakfast in the morning. But, Devin had ruined her chances of keeping that place after they split up 3 months ago. Morgan had been lucky enough to have a cousin, Amber, willing to loan her the thousand dollars deposit needed to rent the crummy apartment she was in now.

The Polo Apartments weren't actually crummy. They were in the process of being remodeled, building by building. There were 6 buildings total on the fenced in property. Each building contained eight apartments, four in front and four in back, two on top and two on bottom. Morgan lived on the bottom right back-side apartment of Building C. Her grandmother, Sarah, lived in the bottom left front-side apartment of Building E. It was on Sarah's recommendation that Morgan was able to qualify for the apartment. It was a nice place looking from the outside in, definitely devoid of any flashy colors. The exterior was beige stucco, and the inside walls were bright white, with beige carpets and new fixtures and appliances. If you looked closely you could still see the buildings' true age under the new repairs, but Morgan tried not to let herself get bogged down on the details. The important thing was that she was away from Devin. Here, in this crummy apartment, she and Chloe were safe.

The sharp crash of breaking glass shattered Morgan's tranquil thoughts and sense of security. The high-pitched ringing of a car alarm sounded through the air, ending whatever calming evening the residents of Polo Apartments had planned. Morgan's head whipped to the left, focusing on the parking lot where a man dressed in blue jeans and a white tee shirt was half hanging out of a white SUV. The man's torso was leaning through the passenger window, and he appeared to be gathering things into his arms.

It didn't take long for Morgan to realize that the man had broken into the SUV, and was now stealing whatever he could get his hands on. She and Chloe may have been safe from Devin here, but that didn't mean they were safe from everything. Polo had a reputation, and the cheap rent came with the cost of high crime. It wasn't unusual to see your neighbors' cars broken into, or to look out the window at night to find a drug dealer posted by the fence at the back of the parking lot. It was a reputation the Polo Apartments management team was seeking to change. The high crime was preventing them from raising the rent, and with the cost of repairs and remodeling adding up they needed the additional revenue.

In an effort to solve the crime problem they'd hired a private security company to patrol the grounds 24/7, but so far none of the guards seemed to be doing their job. Once in a while you got a guy who really wanted to do his job the right way, or who felt bad about the conditions in the complex, but for the most part they were middle-aged, balding men who just came to walk laps around the perimeter. They didn't care about getting rid of the drugs and making it safe for the kids, they just wanted a paycheck. This was especially true of the night guards. They tended to be particularly lazy because there was no apartment staff around to supervise them.

Morgan sat back in her folding chair, debating on whether or not to call the police. Realistically the man was going to be gone by the time they got there, if they bothered to come at all. But, at the same time it felt wrong to sit there and watch him steal. If it had been her own car it would have been on like Donkey Kong, so why was this car any different?

'Because this isn't my responsibility, that's why,' she decided.

There was a team of supposedly trained, qualified, slightly portly guards whose responsibility it was to handle situations like this. They carried mace, hand guns, cuffs, and whatever other fancy weapons they needed in those fancy leather belts of theirs. She was just a girl in her pajamas enjoying a cold Bud on the porch while her daughter slept. What was she going to do against a car thief? And, where were those stupid guards?

As if on cue Morgan heard a rustling in the bushes to her right. At first all she could see was the glow of a flashlight, but once her eyes adjusted she could make out the outline of one of the security guards. It was Dale, the oldest of the older, balding, lazy guards. He must have come to inspect the car alarm, but he didn't appear to be in any hurry to do it. He nodded to Morgan as he passed, and she tipped her beer to him. Dale continued past her, raising his eyes to the offending SUV. The thief had finished collecting CDs and random items from the car, and was now filling his pockets and struggling to keep everything in his grip as he backed away from the vehicle.

"Hey, you!" Dale called, shining his light at the man. "What are you doing over there?!"

The man looked up, spotting Dale and dropping all of the items in his arms. They crashed to the ground, sending CDs and pieces of a now broken laptop skidding across the pavement. He turned and broke out into a run, obviously expecting to avoid the guard who'd begun an awkward and jiggly jog after him.

The thief smiled, realizing he could easily outrun Dale. Perhaps, if he was fast enough, he might even be able to double back and grab some of his treasures before re-enforcements arrived. Morgan just shook her head as the thief rounded the corner towards Polo Drive, the only exit from the complex. Poor Dale was huffing and puffing as he shuffled after him with absolutely no hopes of catching up.

With the thief long gone Morgan turned her attention back to her beer. She tilted the bottom up towards the sky, taking in the view as she swallowed. It sure was beautiful out tonight. The stars were twinkling brightly, flashing little sparkles here and there. For a moment all Morgan could think about was the song at the end of one of Chloe's Disney DVDs.

When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are…

'I suppose this is what your life becomes after you have children,' she thought. 'You sit outside, drinking, singing Disney songs in your head.'

Morgan often came out on the porch to sit after Chloe fell asleep. She liked to sit out in the fresh air and relax with her beer before turning in for the night. It wasn't much of a social life, but it beat wasting all their money at the bar or sitting in bed staring at the TV.

Before Morgan could think of a reply to continue her own internal conversation, a scuffle pulled her attention back to the left, where Dale had just made it to the corner. He'd slowed down his wobble to try to make the turn, and had been totally unprepared for the thief, who'd come charging back his direction in a desperate attempt to escape whatever was coming from the other side. The thief had knocked poor Dale to the ground, then scampered over him, and kept running, all the while looking back over his shoulder. Dale didn't even have time to sit up before someone else came rushing past him. This person didn't give Dale a second thought either, just jumped over him with super human agility and continued in pursuit of the thief.

Morgan guessed it was another guard, because he wore the all black uniform typical of Polo Apartments security. They resembled police officer uniforms, only their badges were sewn-on patches rather than shiny metal pins. This guard must have been new because she couldn't recognize him right away - not that anyone would have been able to at the moment. He was a tall, dark blur moving across the manicured lawn.

The criminal was headed toward Morgan and her grassy knoll. Past her building was the back parking lot, and hopping that fence would mean an escape into the city streets. The plan would have been foolproof, had it been Dale who was chasing him. But, this new guard was fast, gaining on the thief with every step he took. She could hear the thief panting as he grew closer, but the only sound coming from the guard was the heavy, determined stomp of his black boots. Finally, when he was close enough, the guard launched himself at the thief, and both men landed on the ground with a thud and a grunt. The guard put his hand on the back of the thief's neck, holding him in place and foregoing any fighting or struggling. By the time Dale made it over to the two, the thief was in handcuffs and the guard was back on his feet, attempting to catch his breath.

"What the fuck was that?" He asked Dale.

"What? Watch it son-," Dale began, pointing the butt of his flashlight at the new guard.

"No, fuck that," the new guard snapped. "I told you I was going around the back to surprise him, and you yell at him and spook him off. If you're not going to help me go sit your ass back in the fuckin' office and I'll do the shit myself, pudgy bastard."

Morgan didn't know if Dale had heard the tail end of his new partner's rant, but she had. She couldn't help but chuckle.

"Calm down there, son. I know you're eager to work but you've got some learning to do before you can-."

Once again, Dale was interrupted by the agitated new guard.

"Don't call me son," he said. "And what do you mean I've got some learning to do? I was doing recon missions in Baghdad while you were sitting on the toilet waiting for your prune juice to kick in. I don't need to learn shit. You need to learn some shit."

Dale stood there, mouth hanging open as the new guard dusted off his uniform. He'd probably never been spoken to like that by anyone in his life, let alone by some new, young security guard trainee.

"Gimme that flashlight," the guard said.

He stretched an impatient hand towards Dale, who reluctantly obliged.

"And radio this in, tell them to send another team down to look for his side kicks, and get the cops out here to take this loser away."

"Hey, fuck you, you rent-a-cop bitch!"

Both guards turned their attention to the thief on the ground. His chin had been cut from face-planting into the grass after being tackled, but for the most part he was okay. He was okay enough to talk trash even when he knew he'd already lost the battle.

"Oh, that's mister rent-a-cop to you," the new guard joked. "I already told you anything you say can be used against you in court, but I'm willing to edit out the 'bitch' part for the judges sake."

"What do you make, sixty-thousand a year?" The thief asked. "I'll own you."

The new guard chuckled again, squatting down next to the handcuffed man.

"Sixty? Ha, not even with the overtime my man. But, the important thing to remember is that while you might think I'm a rent-a-cop bitch, I'm the rent-a-cop bitch who's going home to his own bed tonight. You, however, are the stupid bitch who'll be sharing a cot with Bubba. Let me know how that goes."

The thief didn't have anything more to say. He just grumbled to himself and turned his head. The new guard looked up at Dale, who'd been watching the exchange, and motioned impatiently to his radio. Immediately the older man reached for the button and began to explain what had happened. The new guard stood up and pointed the flashlight at himself, examining his arms and hands for any cuts. For the first time, Morgan could make out his face. He was definitely someone new, someone she'd never seen before.

He was tall, maybe 6'2 or 6'3 with a lean frame and short buzzed hair. He had fair skin, but whether he was white or just very light skinned she couldn't tell. While his voice seemed older and commanding he looked to be on the younger side. She guessed middle to late twenties. He had what Morgan once heard her Mother refer to as 'city miles', meaning he didn't necessarily look old but just more mature for his age. He had been through something significant in his life, something that had aged him beyond his natural years.

His face -while handsome- was stern and tough. He looked like the type of man who meant business, and this was only exacerbated by his obvious irritation with Dale and the fact that he had to chase down that car thief. Actually, now that she thought about it, he seemed to have barely broken a sweat during his pursuit. To Morgan it seemed like she had to take a break every ten minutes while pushing Chloe around on her bicycle. This guy had just chased down a total stranger across half a football field and was barely winded? Where did they find him?

"Hey girl!"

Morgan's mind was snapped out of her thoughts by the introduction of another voice. This one was high pitched and squeaky. Charmaine.

"Hey Char," Morgan replied.

Charmaine lived in Building B with her baby daddy and their three kids. She'd been trying to get a ring on her finger for the past 2 years, since their youngest was born, but her old man could never seem to stay out of jail long enough to attend a ceremony. She was a nice enough girl, a little rough around the edges, with dark skin, large lips, and very wide hips. Every other week her hair was in a different style, and she always wore big gold earrings.

"What's going on here? Anything good?"

Morgan turned her eyes to the place where Charmaine had motioned with her chin: the grassy knoll. The new guard had disappeared, and Dale was helping the thief to his feet.

"Nothing," Morgan said. "Just another statistic taking a ride down town."

Charmaine shook her head, watching as Dale led the man away.

"Such a shame," she said. "Our youth, wasting away like that."

Morgan rolled her eyes, sipped her beer, and waited for the subject change. Charmaine didn't give a damn about the status of their youth, she just liked to gossip.

"So," Charmaine began cheerfully, popping the top on her own beer. "Did you hear the scoop?"

Morgan chuckled. If Charmaine was one thing, it was predictable.

"No, what's the scoop?"

"There's a new guard in town," she smiled. "I heard he got hired a couple of days ago."

Morgan thought back to the new guard she'd seen tackle the thief on the hill. All that remained was a light dent in the grass where the prisoner had been laying.

"He was supposed to train at some other complex uptown," Charmaine continued, "You know the drill: put him in a nice area, let him learn the basics, get comfortable, and then wham! Pull the rug out from under him and stuck him in this shit hole. They don't want the guards to know where they'll be working upfront, because they'd quit and find a real job that doesn't pay in minimum wage and broken windshields."

Morgan nodded along, wondering where all of this was going.

"Anyway, he tells the managers he doesn't want to train at the other complex; he just wants to come straight here. Says he knows the area and knows exactly what to do."

Charmaine paused in her story to sip her beer, and her eyes watched Morgan expectantly. Morgan stared back, confused.

"And…? So, we have a guard that's from the area. Big deal."

"Girl, he's a white boy."

This time Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"A white boy, from the hood?"

Charmaine nodded with a smile, satisfied that she'd gotten some kind of reaction out of Morgan.

"Yep, a white boy from the hood. From what I hear, he's pretty fine too. Tall, blue eyes, clean cut, drives a nice car. Rumor has it he's got special training from the military or something."

Morgan laughed out loud and turned to Charmaine.

"What the hell would some military white boy from the hood be doing here?"

"I don't know," Charmaine shrugged. "That's just the word on the street."

"Stop listening to the streets, Char," Morgan scolded. "Ain't no military guy coming to work here at the Polo Apartments. Any man that was smart enough to get out of this neighborhood is damn well smart enough to know how to stay out. Military men don't come back here, they move to So Cal where all the bases and pretty girls are."

Again, Charmaine shrugged.

"I was just telling you what they say."

"Besides," Morgan sipped her beer, "there are no white people in the hood."

"Truth."

Justin stood beside a patrol car, going over every last detail of his capture of the car thief for the officer. He noted that the man barely wrote anything down as he ran through the scenario. After a while Justin cocked his eyebrow up a bit.

"Aren't you going to write all this down?" He asked with annoyance.

He was never really one to disrespect authority -a characteristic related to the heart of Marine Corps training- but he'd been annoyed ever since he'd started his shift with Dale, and the thief hadn't exactly helped.

The cop scratched the side of his chin and chuckled.

"This kind of thing happens all the time over here. It's nothing we haven't seen or heard before."

"So, why isn't the problem being dealt with?"

"Look soldier, let me give you some information that will save you a lot of time and energy: this type of neighborhood is always going to have problems. There's always going to be crime, there's always going to be drugs, and there's always going to be prostitution. The reason why is because no one cares. The way I see it is: if they want to live in it then there's no need for any of us to try to be a hero. The world you come from is different from the world we actually live in, Marine."

The cop ripped off a copy of the report for the apartment management's records and handed it to Justin, who in turn looked down at the paper and then back up at him. If Justin was irritated before, he was pissed off now.

The officers' first mistake had been his bad attitude and decision to slack on the job. In Justin's world officers didn't see themselves as trying to be heroes, they saw themselves as trying to do their jobs. Their job was to protect the defenseless, same as the police. Only, so far it appeared that the Marines were the only ones actually holding up their end. His second mistake was calling Justin 'soldier'. He wasn't a soldier, he was a Marine. Soldiers were those party animals serving in the Army. Truth be told the two military branches were hardly even comparable, let alone interchangeable. It was a common civilian mistake, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

"You are a sorry ass excuse for a police officer. I'm not surprised that the crime rate is the way it is. But it's not because they don't care, it's because they've got a bunch of little boys running around in uniform."

The cop smirked, putting away his pen and note pad.

"But, this little boy is getting paid more than you."

The police officer walked away and Justin rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe the mindset of that guy. Punk ass officers were one of the reasons this town was going to hell in a hand basket. What was the point of swearing to serve and protect when you had that type of 'fend for yourself/prove you need my help' mentality? It was law enforcement individuals like that who made it hard on individuals like Justin that took their oath seriously.

His eyes began to scan the vicinity looking for Dale wobbling around somewhere. The lazy old fart had probably headed back to the office for a donut and a nap. As Justin scanned, his eyes landed on a pair of women sitting in their lawn chairs, drinking what looked like beers, and pointing out toward the knoll.

He'd noticed one of them sitting outside alone when he'd had to chase down the thief earlier. She hadn't seemed the least bit phased by the scene. Justin figured that any woman would have run into the house and locked the door behind her, afraid that she might get tangled in the chaos. But she didn't, she just watched from the sidelines as if he were evening entertainment.

The girl looked tall, with her long brown legs crossed and a flip flops dangling from her foot. She was sporting a pair of pajama shorts, black with red stars, and a plain green t-shirt.

Justin began to make his way over to them, hoping to ask a few investigative questions. Maybe they'd seen that guy before. He could be working with some kind of crime ring within the complex. If they'd lived here for awhile maybe they knew more about the history of crime in the complex in general. He'd only made it about half the distance when a short, plump Mexican girl appeared in his path. She'd come out of nowhere, and he was startled a bit.

"Hey officer," she chirped with a smile.

Justin's brow furrowed for a second before he replied.

"Hi."

"I'm Sabrina," she said with a suck of her teeth.

"I'm Justin, the new-."

"The new security officer here at the apartment complex. I know. I just wanted to say you did a mighty fine job over there, catching that thief. Lord knows there are enough of them walking around here robbing people of their good, hard-earned money."

Justin nodded, but he wasn't paying any attention to the petite girl. She'd interrupted him while he was talking, and he hated being cut off. She thought she was being cute by finishing his sentence. It wasn't cute, it was fucking annoying. Instead of paying any attention to Sabrina he was looking over her head at the two women in the chairs. They had paused in their conversation, and were looking over at him. The girl with long, curly hair glanced at him for a few moments; looking him up and down before shyly turning back to her beer.

"It ain't every day you see a white boy chasing down a man in the hood for that long," Sabrina added. "And a fine one at that."

She licked her bright red lips and smiled up at him. Justin couldn't but laugh inside. Obviously the girl didn't have the slightest idea that she wasn't even close to being up to his standards. She should have just kept that supposed compliment to herself all together.

"But, poor Mr. Dale," she continued, twirling a chunk of hair around her finger. "He's got his work cut out for him, because they be giving him a hard time round here. I don't know why they got his old ass out here like this... Yeah... He's going to mess around, break a hip, and s-s-someone's going to run over his ass... Ha ha."

As Sabrina spoke she grew more and more nervous and unsure of herself. The Marine's face remained completely expressionless as he watched her. There wasn't a hint of anything - not an amused grin, not a confused crease of the forehead, not a thoughtful lift of the eyebrow, not even a playful twinkle in his eye. It was unnerving. It was damn intimidating.

Sabrina began to get the distinct impression that she was wasting his time; boring him with her very presence. The realization made her begin to shift nervously, looking around for something more to say. Usually she didn't have to put this much work into having her way with one of the guards. Usually all she had to say was, "hi."

As Sabrina stammered Justin looked over her head once again, watching the girls on the porch a few yards behind her. The girl with short hair and long, colorful nails was sucking down the rest of her beer. The girl in green had stood up and began to fold her chair. She was definitely tall, about 5'7 or 5'8 he would have guessed. Her brown skin was covered in dew from the night air, and she glistened in the moon light. She had a shapely figure, full bust, and a bit of a belly but nothing unsightly. Her thighs were a little thick, but that made for a pair of long, luscious legs. He bet she looked great in a high heel.

The Sergeant chewed on his cheek absentmindedly. It had been a while since he'd had enough time to take in the sight of a woman. During his travels over the years he'd seen his fair share of gorgeous women -both foreign and domestic. But, at the age of 26 he'd stopped chasing the model-look-alike, glamorous girls. Now, it was normal every day beauty that caught his eye.

"Well, it was nice meeting you."

The voice drew him from his thoughts, and he looked down at Sabrina. He'd completely forgotten the girl was there. To his defense, she couldn't have been more than five feet tall. At his stature of 6'3, she was easy to overlook.

"Hope your night goes a little smoother. Goodnight," Sabrina smiled.

He nodded, and the girl finally scurried away, heading toward Building B. Now he knew to avoid that one.

Justin looked back at the two women, or at least where they'd been. They'd returned to their respectful apartments, and their doors were closed. But, he'd managed to catch sight of a green t-shirt through one of the living room windows before the blinds were closed. He stood there for a moment, staring at the window. Then, he silently turned and headed back toward the grass.

Justin looked down at his watch, seeing that it was barely midnight. He let out a frustrated sigh. Time to head back to the office and give Dale a stern talking to about tonight's events.

The night went by slowly as Justin walked around the perimeter one last time. The activity in the complex never stopped. Some people were outside: sitting around the doors of their home, or leaning up against their cars in the parking lot. He watched as cars came and went, mostly men. They were probably leaving the house of some random hook-up after a little night cap.

As he walked most of them would follow him with their eyes, growing quiet as he approached. You could sense his presence; the strong, silent intimidation that seemed to radiate out of him. Most people would just nod in his direction and go on about their business after he passed.

He made his way back to the matchbox office that sat in the first building of the complex. As he approached, he could see a half asleep Dale through the window.

He shook his head.

"Pathetic."

Dale was slouched back in his chair, his mouth half open. Justin opened the screen door, stepped into the small room, and let it slam behind himself. Dale jolted upright, murmuring something in his groggy state.

"The perimeter is quiet for the most part. I'm getting ready to go," Justin mentioned.

He'd already begun to gather his bags. Dale nodded, running his hands over his face.

"Look, Timberlake, about earlier-."

"Save it," Justin replied.

It was alright for him to interrupt people, but not for them to interrupt him - unless if the offender outranked him, of course.

Justin threw his duffel bag over his shoulder and headed back out the door, pulling his keys from his pocket. He'd already had a talk with Dale earlier about tonight's incident, and he didn't want to hear the excuses again. He wasn't the one for excuses in general. It was either you got the job done or you didn't.

Hitting the unlock button on his remote key the headlights flashed, and the engine of the Black Audi S4 started. He opened up the back door, placing his bag and gun case inside, and then got into the front seat. He'd just bought this car before his previous deployment and had only driven it a handful of times. It still had the scent of a new car. He'd added some custom upgrades: all black interior with white stitching, windows tinted as dark as legally possible, and chrome rims for just a bit of style. In this city you weren't really cool if you were cruisin' the streets on stock rims.

Justin pulled out of the parking spot, passed through the exit of the apartment complex, and headed home toward his own apartment about twenty minutes away. It didn't seem far, but it was amazing what going a couple of exits down the freeway did for neighborhoods.

It didn't take him the full 20-minutes to get back to his own place. At 3am there wasn't any traffic to get in his way. He lived in a nice one bedroom apartment. Nothing especially upscale or fancy, but definitely a couple of steps up from the complex where he worked. Most people probably expected him to live in a big, fancy loft or new, tricked out condo, but that simply wasn't the case.

He'd never understood where the assumption that servicemen and women made a lot of money came from. Reality was all of them were grossly underpaid. The only opportunities to make any real money were by taking long, combat deployments to known hostile environments like Afghanistan and Mogadishu. It was a damn shame when you considered the physical, mental, and emotional requirements of the job regardless of whether you're deployed or not.

Justin walked into his bedroom and placed his duffel bag in the closet. His room wasn't the neatest, but not exactly spotless either. The walls were all white expect for framed diplomas, awards, and commendations from his time throughout the service. The USMC had taught them that everything had its place and that's where it should be unless you currently needed it. There were serious consequences for a wrinkled uniform or unmade bunk. But, here, at home, there was no drill instructor or CO telling him what to do. Here, he could leave his boxers on the floor for as long as he wanted too and no one was going to bitch about it. Still, the rules had been drilled into him to deep, and when things got to messy he'd start to feel anxious until it was clean again.

He stood at the foot of the bed, taking off his articles of clothing layer by layer. First, the black uniform shirt was tossed into the hamper hidden in the closet. Then, he undid the velcro on his bulletproof vest. He let out a deep breath when it finally came off. The vest was thick and heavy, and didn't breathe at all. Next he took off his under shirt, then set to work removing his utility belt, boots, pants, and boxers. When he was done all that remained were a pair of silver dog tags around his neck.

Minutes later, in the shower, Justin let the events of the night replay in his mind. His thoughts drifted back to the young lady in green. There was something about her that he couldn't shake from his head. Was it the glistening of her smooth mocha colored skin? Or, maybe the way she had her long hair in lazy curls? It also could have been the way her flip flop dangled so delicately from her foot.

Blue eyes snapped open, and Justin lowered his head into the water to clear his mind. It had been a long time since he noticed a woman in that much detail. Usually he was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice anyone. But, he just couldn't imagine a woman like that being in place like Polo Apartments. She was beautiful, and a sharp contrast from her friend who seemed a little less - sophisticated? He was trying to think of a polite way to describe her, but hood rat was all that seemed to come to mind.

Trying to rid the girl in green from his mind, Justin focused on making use of the shower. He started to scrub at his arms and chest, getting off the dirt, grass, and sweat from the day's work. Once he was done he hopped out, pulled on a fresh pair of boxers, and climbed into his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, his arm cradling his head, and fell asleep still trying to avoid the constant image of her in his mind....

The night was abnormally dark as a squad of soldiers moved quietly through the village. Well, it was abnormally dark to the average American. In America people were used to street lamps and passing headlights. Here, when night came, all you had was the moon to guide you. Thank God, and the USMC, for night vision.

Justin squatted down next to a wall. In front of him was Chad, squatted a few feet away with a doorway between them. They were on a mission to capture a family suspected of aiding Al Qaeda members -and if possible- apprehend any present Al Qaeda operatives.

Most families in the countryside resided in compounds, or houses with tall, thick, walls around the outer perimeters. It provided protection for the family and dwelling structure, as well as serving as a pen for any animals or pets.

Chad, sensing that things were all clear, motioned for the first team to breach the perimeter. Corporal Billingsley hoisted himself up onto the wall, looking for signs of a dog. Haji's, the Marines' nickname for the indigenous population, usually kept guard dogs around since they didn't have access to things like alarm systems. Seeing no sign of a dog, Billingsley climbed over the wall, and opened the door for the rest of the Marines. Kicking down the door would have been noisy, and would have alerted the occupants to the Marines' arrival, allowing Al Qaeda members precious time to either escape or arm themselves.

Once inside the walls Justin moved right while Chad flanked left, each signaling to their respective teams to split up and surround the house. It was beige, probably made from a wood frame with dirt and clay packed together to form the walls and roof. Slowly making way to the house, they could see people moving through the windows. The families here were often large, and usually included extended family members or multiple families.

The plan was for Chad's team to take the front, while Justin and his men came in through the back. They broke off as planned, and Justin's team quickly headed for the back of the house. A few chickens clucked and balked at them as they passed, but no one inside seemed to pay them any attention. Once positioned, Justin radioed to Chad.

"Op two, in position."

After a moment he heard Chad's whispered, static-filled voice.

"Op one, in position. Breach in three... two... one."

In perfect synchronization they kicked both doors down, rushing into the small home with guns drawn. They shouted 'get down' in the Dari taught to them during downtime with translators. The Corps didn't typically offer language classes to the basic Marine; they recruited foreign language majors out of Universities for matters that required non-English skills.

The squad moved quickly, filling the house as they cleared empty rooms and hiding places. Chad's team had a handful of people, five or six, on the ground in the living room. They held their hands behind their heads. An older man and young boy were shouting, while a woman and a few small children cried.

Justin's team was clearing the back of the house, room by room. They were approaching the last room, a closed door at the end of the hall, when suddenly, guns began to go off. The dark space was illuminated with flashes of light as rounds fired through the wooden door and snapped off the clay wall just inches from Sgt Timberlake's head. The team of Marines ducked, scrambling to take cover in the empty rooms...

Justin began to toss and turn as the dream continued to play. He grunted in pain when his shoulder slammed into a doorframe, as though the dream was real. It felt real to him, as if he were back in combat all over again. He watched as bullets flew, ricocheting off of picture frames. His men were shouting to each other, ordering each other to return fire and to get out of the way.

With a gasp Justin shot straight up in bed, his face dripping with sweat. His heart was racing and pounding so hard it echoed in his ears.

"Shit," he whispered, throwing back the covers.

He swung his legs over the bed and ran a hand over his face before turning on the bedside lamp. Those dreams were happening too often for comfort.

"Fuck. Get it together, Timberlake," he told himself.

He got up and made his way into the kitchen where he retrieved a bottle of Budweiser before heading back into the bedroom. From there, he moved to the dresser where three bottles of pills sat. They'd been prescribed to him for PTSD, a disorder he'd been diagnosed with upon his most recent return from combat. He picked up a short, orange bottle. These were the ones that helped him sleep at night. He popped two into his mouth, and washed them down with the beer.

Above the dresser was a mirror, and he took a long look at himself. His blue eyes were blood shot, and the veins on the sides of his head were pulsing as the impending migraine started to form. He took a few more swigs of beer, and then sat the bottle on the dresser. It wasn't the best idea to drink along with medicine, but the pills were necessary for his dreams and the beer was necessary for his headaches.

The following day Justin woke up in the middle of the afternoon, just a few hours before his shift. Now he knew the beer wasn't a bright idea. He'd been practically unconscious because of the pills, thereby wasting most of the day. The only upside was that he'd actually slept through the night. He rose from the bed and walked into the kitchen in search of breakfast. In the fridge there was only beer, a gallon of water, and a carton of eggs.

"I guess I need to go grocery shopping."

He decided on scrambled eggs - as if there was much of a choice. While retrieving the salt and pepper from the cabinet his phone vibrated on the countertop. He looked down at the caller ID, seeing 'Pop'.

"Hello?"

"Hey Marine!"

His father's voice was cheerful on the other end. The elder Timberlake was a proud Marine father, and his wife a proud Marine stepmom. They had bumper stickers, t-shirts, and a flag in the front yard to prove it.

"Hey Pop! How are you, sir?" Justin asked.

"Good, good; just calling to see how you been settling back into civilian life."

"It's an adjustment as always."

It was true. He was never home long enough to be able to fully enjoy life. He just adjusted long enough to function like a normal person, and then he was sent back into the field.

"I understand, son. Have you found you a job yet?"

"Yeah, actually I have."

"What is it?"

"I'm doing security over at the Polo Apartment complex."

"What?"

"Yeah."

"I understand the security part, but why Polo Apartments? You'd make more money working for the city or a bank."

"It's not about the money, Dad."

"What is it about? I know you're probably the only one over there with any kind of skill or training. Probably the only white man over there too."

"Basically, but that's not the point. It's a high crime area, and it will put my training to good use; keep me fine tuned until my next deployment."

"I understand. I just hope you understand that the people over there don't want help. They're fine living off of the tax payers. They're fine being handed things by the government. People like them don't want a hero or a way out. They are comfortable exactly where they are at, and I say to hell with it, leave them there."

Justin let out a deep, silent sigh as his father continued to ramble. He was starting to sound like the cop.

"You know what I mean, son?" His dad finally asked.

"Yep, I know."

Justin had no clue what he meant. He wasn't even sure if they were still talking about his job or if they'd somehow segued onto another subject.

"But in the meantime," he said. "I have to go; it's almost time for work."

"Alright, son. Stay safe."

"Always."

Justin's shift was scheduled to start at 6pm, just two hours before sundown. He'd managed to salvage what was left of his afternoon by working out. It was something he tried to do at least once -if not twice- a day. Exercise was essential to keeping up his strength and endurance for the job, as well as to be ready to pass the combat fitness test or any other pre-deployment tests or training.

After checking in with the afternoon guards and saying goodbye to them for the day Justin set off on his own. He preferred to wander the perimeter while Dale napped in the office. When other officers like Sam and Tim were on with them he didn't mind hanging out with the group. He enjoyed being a fly on the wall during their conversations, and watching them pull pranks on Dale was interesting; like the time they put super glue on the cap to his half-empty bottle of Coke so he couldn't open it to drink anymore. But, the Sergeant had quickly learned that on the nights it was just he and Dale, he was better off working alone.

He'd just come around the side of Building C, towards one of the back parking lots, when he saw her. Her top half was leaning into the open hatch back of a Jeep, but he knew it was her. He'd recognize those legs anywhere.

She was wearing shorts again. These were denim and frayed at the edges like she'd cut them from a pair of old Levi's. Her top was different this time too, it was blue. She wore one of those weird burnout tanks that was popular among civilians now; the ones where patches of the fabric were sheer. But, she'd layered it with a white tank, making it somewhat cute in Justin's opinion. Her hair was still in long curls and oversized black sunglasses were shielding half her face.

He leaned back against a wall and watched as she gathered all of her things and closed the trunk. She smiled down at a little girl standing next to her before they turned from the Jeep and headed across the lot. He wondered who the little girl was. She looked about 6 or 7 years old. She was thin and tall, and stayed close to the woman's side.

The woman carried a tan leather purse and pink Hello Kitty backpack on one shoulder, and a brown paper grocery bag in her arms. The little girl was carrying a plastic bag. It didn't look that heavy but she was carrying it with both hands as if it weighted 100lbs.

Justin's brow furrowed momentarily as he noted that it was a long walk from their parking spot to their apartment. They'd have to cut across the play area and over the knoll where Justin had tackled the car thief.

The pair continued on, chatting to themselves as they crossed the parking lot and started toward the grass. Justin watched from several feet away as they passed him. The woman barely paid him any mind. She said something to the little girl, and then looked up to watch where she was going. Her gaze stayed away from him as she looked around at the buildings, then up at the cloudless sky as she ran a hand over her hair. Her skin was glowing was the sun's rays, and she had a slight swing in her hips.

Justin glanced around at the parking lot behind her, seeing the wandering eyes of a few of the loitering men. They were watching her from the corners of their eyes -lingering way to long for their thoughts to be innocent- and cocking their eyebrows in appreciation.

It wasn't until just before they moved behind a building that Justin looked back, this time at the little girl. Her blank brown eyes were looking back at him. She'd been watching him curiously as they walked, wondering who was the strange new man in the black uniform. Justin averted his gaze to the watch on his wrist reading 17:08. When he looked up again, they were gone.

Circling around the building Justin watched them as they continued across the grass. The woman motioned with a jerk of her chin out toward the play structure. Some of the kids from the complex were playing on the swings. The little girl looked out at them, frowning in their direction for a long time before she turned back to the woman with a shake of her head. He guessed now that the young girl was her daughter. They shared the same thick, black hair and iridescent skin.

He figured the woman was about his age, so she must have had her daughter young. Justin hadn't immediately picked her out as a teen mom. For starters, it looked like she only had one child - though there could be more for all he knew. In this neighborhood, once a girl had one baby she usually kept going. Second, she seemed to be doing alright for herself. Granted, she was living at Polo Apartments so she couldn't have been making that much money, but she didn't blend like everyone else did. She didn't dress in the tacky, ghetto fashions that the other women did. She didn't have seven inch long talons for finger nails or wear pounds of fake gold jewelry. She looked... normal. So had the little girl in her jean capris and pink tank top. Hell, he was blending in better than they did, and he was wearing a uniform.

"Timberlake?"

Dale's voice came through the radio, calling Justin's attention from the woman and the little girl.

"Yeah?"

"We have a situation outside Building A."

Justin rolled his eyes. He already knew what was going on in Building A. The couple upstairs was fighting. The boyfriend was high, and the girlfriend was telling him he wasn't the father of their baby and had been daring him to hit her all day until he finally did. He knew this because that was the scene that played out with this couple every other week.

The 1st and the 15th were the worst days at work. That's when all the people on government aid got their checks, and they used chunks of the money to buy drugs and cheap liquor in bulk. Their daytime activities made for interesting events on the nightshift.

"Copy. On my way," Justin said.

After taking one last look at the two girls as they began to climb the small hill he turned and continued through the parking lot toward the front of the property.

Justin had been right about Building A, and the cops didn't seem surprised when they arrived to take the boyfriend to jail. But, aside from their stunt the property had been quiet for the most part. A lot of people associated sunset with mischief, but that was too early. The real weirdoes came out between 11pm and 2am. It was just after 9pm now, so he had a few hours of calm before the storm.

Justin had noticed that a lot of pointless vandalism occurred when residents hung out in the parking lot and got drunk together. They tagged the buildings to mark their "turf", played pranks on the kids by breaking the playground equipment, got into fights that resulted in holes in the walls, and sometimes left their drug paraphernalia on the sidewalks to be stepped on. The latter really got Justin riled up.

To try to cut down on the senseless crime he made a habit of breaking up groups loitering on the property. If he could run them off before they had an opportunity to get drunk, they didn't have the chance to break anything, and hopefully they wouldn't fight him too much without the influence of liquid courage. He didn't care if they wanted to convene and relax after a long day, but do it inside where you can be held responsible for your actions.

Morgan was sitting on the porch, wearing white shorts with pink polka dots and a light blue t-shirt. She held a blue can of Bud light in her hand, and had been looking up at the sky while Charmaine rambled on beside her. She couldn't see many stars because of all the street lamps, but she liked to look at the few she could see, and imagine the ones she couldn't.

"Oh, girl, look. Look!"

Morgan's peace was broken with a rough shove from Char's elbow. The Bud sloshed in the can and Morgan jumped to keep it from spilling.

"What?!"

"Look," she said again.

Morgan followed Char's eyes and they landed on the new security guard, moving through the yard towards one of the parking lots. He was walking alone with a flashlight in hand. His stride was purposeful and mechanical, like it'd been taught to him rather than something acquired naturally. Before either of them could speak he glanced in their direction. Morgan's breathe hitched in her throat, and her heart started beating double time. He was too far away for her to make out the features of his face; but just knowing that he was looking, feeling the weight of his eyes on her, it made her more nervous than she'd ever been.

Tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear Morgan looked away, and Char let out a high pitched squeal.

"Giiiirl," she grinned. "He was looking at youuuu. Have you seen him? Girl, he's fiiiine. Nice butt too, from what I can tell."

"He's patrolling, he wasn't looking at me," Morgan argued.

When she looked back at the guard, he was turned away from them. He'd passed them now, and was approaching a small group of young men gathered around a bench. They'd been sitting outside for as long as Morgan and Charmaine had, but they'd been rolling dice and talking loudly. She appreciated someone asking them to quiet down, though she doubted they'd listen.

"Honey, don't tell Sabrina he was checking you out, she'll never speak to us again."

'Good,' thought Morgan.

She took a long swig of her beer, and then turned to look at Charmaine. The other woman's eyes were glued to the guard, and she clutched her beer as if she were watching the final battle scene in an action movie. Morgan followed her eyes again, watching the guard as he spoke to the men. They'd gathered around him in a semi-circle, and they seemed to be arguing.

"Get the fuck outta here!"

Morgan's eyebrows raised as the guard shouted at the men, and then she pulled out her phone to call the office. This was usually the part where the fight broke out, and with the guard outnumbered he was clearly going to be in need of backup - if Dale could be considered back up. Morgan felt bad for the new guard, but that's what management got for bringing a white boy to the ghetto.

The men grumbled, shifting their feet as if they were growing antsy. She could feel the hostility all the way from her porch, so she was sure the guard could feel it too. But, he didn't look afraid. He was standing with his back straight, feet apart, ready to hold his ground.

After a moment the men began to disperse, heading back to their apartments. Muttered obscenities filled the air, but the guard didn't budge and none of the men turned back to face him. When he was satisfied that they were all going to follow his orders, he turned and continued on his patrol.

"Whew!" Charmaine exclaimed.

She threw her head back and raised a hand to fan herself dramatically.

"Did you see the way he just punked those brothas? Lord, have mercy that was sexy."

Morgan smirked at Char, then looked back at the spot where the guard had been. She couldn't say if the guard was sexy or not, but he definitely wasn't like anyone she'd ever seen before.

Justin let out a sigh of relief as the men walked away. There'd been 5 of them and only one of him, he would have had a hard time taking them into custody had they put up a fight. He also knew the two girls were watching him, and it would have been seriously embarrassing to be the Marine who got his ass kicked in front of a bunch of girls.

He'd seen them earlier, during his patrol. This time the pretty one with the legs was wearing light colored shorts, but she still appeared to be drinking a beer. That must have been her nightly ritual to unwind... It was better than what he saw a lot of other young mothers around here doing to unwind. He fought the urge to glance back at them, and continued on his patrol.

Morgan and Charmaine continued to sit outside, enjoying their beers and talking aimlessly as the night drug on. Eventually, the mosquitoes became too much for either of them to fight off. They folded up their chairs while saying good night to one another, and then went to their separate apartments.

Morgan walked in, closing and chaining the door behind her. The front door opened up to a decent sized living room, the back-half of which doubled as a dining room. To the right of that was a short hallway, with the guest/Chloe's bathroom on the left, a storage closet in the middle, and Chloe's bedroom on the right. To the left of the dining room was the kitchen and a doorway hiding the short hall to Morgan's master bed and bath. It wasn't much, but it was enough for the two of them.

Morgan made her way to the small hallway on the right, placing the chair in its proper place in the closet. Then she turned, twisting the door knob on her daughter's door and peeking in at Chloe's motionless body. She was breathing softly, curled up against her favorite stuff animal. Morgan couldn't help but smile at how peacefully Chloe was sleeping. If you would have told her six years ago that she would be parenting such a wonderful child -let alone parenting anyone period- she would have been shocked.

Being a single mother, however, was something that most girls -including Morgan- never thought to consider, but, that was a story for another day...

Morgan quietly closed the door and made her way to the kitchen to throw her empty beer can in the recycling. She discarded the offending piece of metal and pulled open the fridge to find something to snack on. As her eyes scanned she realized grocery shopping needed to be done after work tomorrow or they weren't going to have many options for dinner the next few evenings. She pulled out another beer and went to her pantry to grab a small bag of chips normally used for Chloe's school lunches. Then she headed into the living room and plopped down on the couch while turning on the TV.

This was the only time she had to sit quietly by herself and relax without interruption. She cracked open the beer and took a sip before lying back against the arm of the couch and flipping through the channels. The judge on TV was deciding who was at fault over a car accident in a parking lot. Both litigants were starting to look like bald face liars. As Morgan lay there her thoughts wandered from bills, to job hunting, to the mysterious new security guard.

It was embarrassing how she'd lost all thought when he'd looked at her. Even though she still hadn't been able to get a good look at his face she wasn't exactly turned off by what she did see: tall, fair skin, dark hair, solid and well-built. His stiff and erect posture when he walked was alert and dominating. The way he moved around the complex and took charge without too much of a backlash was amazing. She didn't know if the rumor about him being in the military was true, but from the aura he gave off she wouldn't put it past him. It was refreshing knowing that someone was walking around determined to keep the area quiet. It gave her a small sense of security, and a little peace of mind.

In the time that she'd lived at the Polo Apartments the security hadn't been up to par, and don't even get her started on the guards themselves. It was like they weren't even on duty half the time. She was grateful for the change. Since the new guy had started working the others on his shift and the shift before seemed to take things a little more seriously. The morning crew was still a laughing stock, but then again you can't have it all.

Her thoughts moved back to the new guard and the way he'd tackled the car thief. He hadn't hesitated in the slightest. His arms were thick with coiled muscles that flexed as the thief struggled. He was strong and forceful, pinning the man to the ground while he retrieved his handcuffs from a leather pouch on his belt. It was so exciting!

Morgan shook her head, chastising herself. He was a damn security guard, not an athlete for cryin' out loud. Calm down. He looked like he might have a nice body, but who could really tell under all that gear? Besides, he could still turn out to be every girl's worst nightmare - a butter face, where everything about him is hot except for his face. Morgan sighed, taking a gulp of her beer instead.

"I seriously need to get laid."

She focused her attention back onto the late night television, finishing off her beer and bag of chips a short time later before heading off to bed.

This was the worse hangover Morgan ever had in her life.

No, wait, the second.

Well, third.

Whatever. All she knew was that it ranked high on her list of Worst Hangovers Ever Survived. Not only was her head throbbing, but so was the rest of her body. She regretted almost every beer she'd had last night - almost. The physical pain caused by the alcohol wasn’t the only thing surging through her thoughts. The moments that had followed the beer and caused some slight physical pains of its own also came to mind.

Morgan shuffled through the store as she hung clothes back on their assigned rack. She was relieved that the store manager wasn’t working today. Now she didn’t have to worry about being questioning on her slow footedness. She really didn’t need the grief right then, feeling the way she felt.

After returning all the clothes to their rack she headed to the fitting room to gather the garments left back there. The continuous motion began to make her feel nauseous again, and she took a seat on a bench in one of the stalls, reaching down to grab the clothes off the floor. Once they were all gathered she set them on the bench beside her and leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

She still couldn’t believe it. She got drunk and let all her common sense blow out the window by having sex with a guy she barely knew. To top it off, right on the damn dining room table. She'd scrubbed it with antibacterial spray twice before sitting Chloe down for breakfast. But, the location wasn’t what had bruised her pride so badly. What put the icing on the cake was the fact that he didn’t come back that night.

How damn ridiculous, drunk, and desperate could she have been? Well, maybe not desperate - more like vulnerable. It wasn't like her to let a strange guy into her bed - obviously. She preferred to take her time and really build a bond with someone. It seemed to her that men who moved that quickly were usually sleezy and useless, with no sexual skills and even less stamina. But, in this case she couldn't complain about Justin's personality or the sex.

No, not him.

And definitely not about the sex.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she'd been with someone so good - but that was beside the point.

Morgan couldn’t blame him for not coming back, it wasn’t like they were an item. Maybe he was just as embarrassed as she was. Or, maybe he was mad at her for making him go through with it when he'd been clearly protesting. She really hoped he wasn’t mad, because she wasn’t quite sure how she would be able to walk around the complex and see him avoiding her and giving his trademark cold, expressionless stare. He did that to everyone else, but not she and Chloe. He and Chloe seemed to come alive when they saw each other. 

Sighing deeply, Morgan swallowed the lump in her throat and rubbed her temples in slow circles. She really hoped she didn’t fuck up whatever was going on between them just because she decided to get drunk.

Was she bad in bed?

Morgan's head shot up at the thought - eyes wide with fright.

Had she been so sloppy drunk that she wasn't any good?

She hadn't done very much to help as far as the actual act was concerned, but that was because everything he did felt so good she'd barely had the wherewithal to even keep her eyes open. She'd never been with a man who felt like that, made her body tingle and react like that. Every time she thought about it a tiny shiver ran down her spine into her hips. For just a fraction of a second she could feel him all over again.

***

Justin pushed himself up and down from the ground repeatedly. He inhaled and exhaled systematically, staring straight ahead out of the glass sliding doors. He was on his fourth set of push-ups. His biceps were burning and sweating was dripping from his brow into his eyes, hanging on his lashes. He really didn’t need the workout, but he couldn’t find anything else to keep his mind occupied. It seemed like no matter what he did he couldn’t keep his thoughts from Morgan. No number of cold showers were enough to make his mind forget the soft skin of her body.

He mentally kicked himself for allowing the events to occur in such a manner. While sex on a dining room table had secretly been on his bucketlist, doing it with Morgan had felt a little cheap and taudy. She was sweet and beautiful. She deserved chocolate, candles, John Mayer songs, and all that other shit girls liked. At the very least she deserved a mattress to lay on.

It wasn't like him to let his emotions completely control him like that. He was a Marine. He was trained to stay cool, calm, and collected. Emotions came later, if at all - especially when women were concerned. He could easily turn a woman down any other time, but there was something about Morgan that simply captivated him. She forced him to put his guard down, without really doing anything at all.

The seductive, dark gaze she gave him. How she fell into his arms when her legs gave out, and nestled against him instead of standing. Even if that wasn’t enough to stir him up there was the warmth of her body against his, the snug feeling he felt inside her. The erotic sounds of her moans and whimpers drove him crazy and still echoed in his head.

Justin sighed and jumped to his feet, pacing the living room floor. The tattoos on his back glimmered with sweat. He just couldn’t shake her. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted too. He did know that he'd finally slept through the night for once. When he got home that night he didn’t have a single bad dream. He just dreamed of her - her soft hair in his hands as her tongue danced around his.

There were only a few hours left before he needed to head off to work. He wasn’t sure what he would say to her once he saw her, but he knew that he wanted to see her again - especially now that he had a better idea of what she looked like under those clothes. At the thought of her body - her wide hips held steady by hands - he let out a deep groan and headed toward the shower to clean the sweat from his skin. It was one last chance to rid his body of the urges before getting ready for his shift.

***

“Then she was like, you need to be more open about your feelings. I mean, really?!”

Justin couldn’t help but chuckle as he maneuvered through traffic while Tim voiced his frustrations over his girlfriend. The two men had this conversation almost all of the time. Tim and his girl were always bickering over something. But, this time in particular it was about his feelings - or lack thereof.

“That's code for 'she wants you to show some emotion'.”

Tim rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Bro, I spend nearly 12 hours a day busting criminals and breaking up fights. The last thing I want to do is come home and talk about it, let alone cry about it.”

“I get it. But it's either you open up or she won’t shut up. Chicks don't give up when it comes to that touchy-feely shit,” Justin advised.

He hadn’t been in a relationship in a long time, but one thing he had learned from watching his parents as he grew up was that a happy woman led to a happy home.

Tim grunted as he ran a hand over his face. Why were women so damn complicated? Justin chuckled once more, steering the car into the exit lane on the right. While usually he was fine with listening to Tim's problems, Justin's mind was more set on wondering what was to come for himself. He had no idea what he was going to say to Morgan. He had no idea what she would say back to him. What if she didn't want to see him? She had a right after he didn't come back last night.

He knew the timing of last nights events weren't good. It hadn't been intentional; it was something totally unexpected by both of them. He didn’t think Morgan was the type to have a one night stand. She seemed too stand-offish and guarded to let anyone in that easily. Justin, on the other hand, had a few under his belt. Not that he was only looking for a one time thing with Morgan. He wasn't sure what he wanted with Morgan. He wasn't sure what she wanted either.

The Audi finally turned onto Polo Drive and parked in front of the office. He could see Morgan’s apartment building toward the back from where he was parked but had no idea if she was home or not. He'd have to walk the perimeter in a bit, hopefully that'd give him a chance to think of what to say.

“Hey, what happened with that sexy chick Morgan last night?” Tim asked.

His voice cut through Justin's thoughts as they climbed out of the car. Justin frowned and shifted his gaze.

"Nothing," he lied.

“I mean, you were gone for a minute. She must have given you a hard time about taking her back to her apartment.”

"Nah. We barely made it there before she passed out."

Justin doubted the lie was showing on his face. Marines had great poker faces. But still Tim's heavy gaze was making him uneasy. He turned his shoulders away, shielding his face from view as he unlocked the back doors so they could retrieve their bags.

"Hmm," Tim mused. "I'm no expert, but first the plate of cookies, then that drunken damsel-in-distress act last night? I think she likes you. Your fan club just keeps growing and growing Robocop."

Justin looked up just in time to see Tim flash a bright smile before closing the back door and heading off toward the office.

***

The sun was sitting low on the horizon, just barely above the grassy hills in the distance. The entire complex seemed to be cast in an orange glow that bounced off the white stucco walls and into the apartments, making them feel warm and inviting. The heat had finally begun to subside for the day, and it had already dropped to below 65 degrees out.

Morgan was feeling a little better than she had this morning. The splitting headache had passed, a long with the dizziness. The queasiness had passed, until she pulled onto Polo Drive and saw Justin's car parked in the front lot along side the other guards. He was here, somewhere, and that realization brought back the urge to vomit.

She tried not to think about it as she navigated the narrow lane of the parking lot to her spot in the back. She was dreading the thought of seeing him - being face-to-face with him after last night. Not only was she not mentally prepared for it, but she looked like hell today. She at least wanted to be in her low rise skinny jeans and a push-up bra when he gave her to kiss off. Usually around this time he was patrolling the grounds. If he was trying to avoid her the way she was hoping to avoid him, she'd have no problem sneaking into her apartment undetected.

Making a sharp right hand turn Morgan finally laid eyes on her parking spot. Her heart both dropped and skipped a beat at the same time. Justin was standing there, on the curb infront of her spot. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his black jacket, and his forehead was wrinkled; he was frowning down at the sidewalk.

"Mommy! It's Mr. Justin!" Chloe exclaimed in the backseat.

Morgan heard the distinct sound of a seatbelt being undone and she snapped her fingers to get the girls' attention.

"Excuse me, little miss. The car is still moving so sit back down."

Chloe sighed, her hand falling away from the buckles.

"Sorry Mom."

Justin looked up at the sound of an engine. Morgan's green Jeep was turning into the space infront of him. He'd been out here for a few hours, circling the area, muttering to himself. He'd gone over a dozen different conversation openings in his head. He knew what to say if she was upset, awkward, quiet, or even down right rude. He was completely prepared.

Morgan took a deep breathe, taking her time as she got out of the car. Chloe was bouncing in her seat, the straps undone as soon as the engine stopped. Now she was staring through the windshield with bright brown eyes, her little hand on the door handle.

"Hurry Mommy," she said.

Morgan gathered her things and climbed out of the car. She reached over, opening Chloe's door as Justin stepped off the curb and made his way over.

"Hi Mr. Justin!" She smiled.

"Hi Chloe. How are you?"

"I'm good. I got a sticker in my class today because I brought in the most boxtops. My teacher turns in the boxtops and they buy stuff for us like new books, and pencils, and she said maybe a pet. I want a fish but all the boys voted for a guinea pig. I got a sticker today, now I have four stickers, and do you know what Mr. Justin? If I get one more I get to pick a prize from the prize box. I really want a stuffed animal puppy but I think Sarah took the last one. My teacher said she would try to get some more if they still have them at the teacher store but she won't know until she goes there, and she's not going until Saturday so I have to wait alllll the way until next week. I hope she gets some, I want a brown one."

Justin nodded along, his brows inching higher and higher on his forehead as Chloe's narrative seemed to stretch on and on. Morgan, grateful for the distraction, gathered their things in silence and closed the car doors. Justin watched her from the corner of his eye, trying to remember what his opening line had been. All that planning and rehearsing obviously hadn't done any good.

When Chloe heard the beep of the horn signalling that the alarm was set she started a skip toward the walkway that lead to their apartment. The two adults were left alone, awkwardly avoiding each others gaze.

Morgan stepped forward, shuffling the bags handing from her arms. Her purse was enough on its own without Chloe's backpack, lunch box, and pastic bag of old papers the teacher had found in her desk. Justin reached out, taking the bag and Chloe's backpack from her right hand. Their fingers brushed, his fingers smooth against the back of her hand. Her heart jumped, racing immediately.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Yep."

He didn't say any more than neccessary, and he didn't say it any louder than was required for her to hear him. Something about that quiet, mysterious, confident nature of his was calling her - luring her in even more. Morgan started walking just to put some space between them.

"I didn't call for an escort."

"I know," he followed a step behind her. "I was patrolling out here. It's become a habit, I guess."

"You ran everyone off, now there's nothing for you to do."

He snorted.

"I suppose. So, how are you?"

"Fine," she told him. "A bit of a headache, but nothing major."

He didn't need to know about the times she went running through the store in hopes of reaching the bathroom before her nausea got the best of her in front of customers.

"That's all? You got off pretty lucky then. You drank a lot."

"Yeah."

A silence fell over them as they made their way across the grass. Morgan tried to appear as nonchalant as possible, keeping her eyes trained on the scenery rather than his face: the bushes, the trees, the insects flying through the air.

"I'm sorry about last night," he said suddenly.

Morgan's brown furrowed as she inhaled a deep breath. She was right, he did regret sleeping with her. She'd been sloppy drunk and bad at it, and now he was regretting the whole thing. His impromptu visit today was him giving her the kiss-off in the most gentlmenly way possible.

"It's alright, it was my fault," she said. "I shouldn't have made you do that. I was drunk and I basically drug you into my apartment and forced myself on you. I understand if you don't want to escort us anymore-."

Justin paused in his tracks, turning to face her.

"Wait, you think I'm sorry about sleeping with you?"

Morgan shrugged, confused.

"Yeah. When you didn't come back I got the hint. Don't worry, I'm not going to report you or try to use that against you-."

"Morgan," he interupted her ramble.

The corner of his mouth lifted into a grin, and his blue eyes flicked down to the ground.

"I'm not sorry about what we did, I'm sorry that I couldn't come back last night. We got a shit ton of calls, I didn't get off until after three, and I didn't want to wake you up."

"Oh," she sounded.

Her walking resumed, slowly following Chloe who was doing cartwheels on the lawn in the distance.

"I thought something else. You're hard to read sometimes."

Justin shrugged lightly. That was hardly the first time he'd heard someone say that.

"I thought maybe you were the one regretting it."

"No," Morgan answered quickly, "I don't."

Silence fell over them again. They were nearing the walkway that crossed in front of Morgan's porch.

"Do you want my number?" Justin asked. "That way the next time you aren't sure what I'm thinking you can just ask."

It wasn't exactly the way he'd planned on doing this, but they were fast approaching her door. Time was running out and he seemed to have forgotten all his other options.

Morgan bit down on the inside of her bottom lip, trying to contain the smile that was spreading over her face.

"Well, I don't really take numbers from guys. But, I'll give you mine."

***

Morgan peeked into Chloe’s bedroom once more before heading outside like every night. This time instead of her usual beer or two it was a bottle of ginger ale. She was a still a little queasy from her hangover so she substituted for something that would help ease her stomach a little more.

She walked outside, wrapping her jacket around her body. The night had a slight chill that required an extra layer if you weren’t up and moving around. She finally claimed her seat and sipped lightly on her drink as the night owls came out and began to walk along the sidewalk back and forth.

As she sat in her beach chair her eyes travelled down the walkway that ended in a pool of light at the door of the front office. A smile formed across her lips; she couldn’t help to think about Justin. She swore to herself that she wouldn’t get caught up in her day dreams about him and replay their single, solitary night of passion, but she couldn’t help herself and neither could her body help but react when she thought about it. 

“I don’t have time to argue with you, dumbass!”

Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by Charmaine slamming the door of her apartment and stomping down the stairs in a fit. Morgan couldn't make out much of what Char was muttering until she was within arm's reach.

"I don’t even know why I bother with his ignorant ass.”

Morgan chuckled shaking her head; she didn’t know either. Charmaine claimed her seat beside Morgan with a sigh. She had a Styrofoam cup of something strong, and a half-finished cigarette dangling from her lips.

Char took a long sip of her drink and a strong hit from her cigarette before saying anything to Morgan.

"I swear I can’t stand his ass.”

Morgan quietly rolled her eyes and laughed a little.

"Whatever Char, you know you love him.”

“Nah, girl, I’m so sick of his ass. All I asked his ass to do was run the fucking vacuum. Shit, we might live in the projects or whatever, but damn I’m not going to have my house looking like anything. Did he do it? Nah! He’s just like one of the fucking kids.”

Morgan went through this scenario at least twice a month with Char because Terrell would never do anything productive in the house. She'd always threaten to kick him out -which hardly ever actually happened- and whenever she did he'd always came back apologizing, promising to do better. Then he'd spend the night "blowing her back out" as Char would so eloquently put it during casual conversations. Things would be right in their little world for a couple of weeks, then they were back at each other’s throat.

Morgan chuckled and took another sip of ginger ale. Char looked over at her, eyeballing her non-alcoholic beverage.

"What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing why?” Morgan questioned.

“You sitting all huddled up to yourself with your ginger ale.”

Morgan rubbed her hand over her stomach.

"My stomach's a little weak.”

Char threw her head back with laughter and pointed a long embellished acrylic nail towards the parking lot.

"I heard you were out here drunk off your ass playing dice with Maurice and them."

“I was not that drunk,” Morgan defended weakly.

Char sucked her teeth, taking another hit of her cigarette before speaking.

"Whatever trick. Terrell told me he saw Justin and that other security guard out here trying to play Captain Save-A-Hoe for your ass.”

Morgan swallowed hard, raising her eyebrow.

"Terrell is lying.”

“Mmhmm... I saw all your beer bottles scattered in the parking lot too. I don’t care about you getting drunk, but were you that drunk that Justin had to carry you to your apartment? I know some shit must've went down. Spill it bitch!”

Morgan ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head.

"Nothing happened. I got drunk, and he helped me to my apartment. It was really late.”

Char remained silent eyeing Morgan, trying to read her, but the girl remained composed on the outside. On the inside she was having a heart attack. She didn’t know how long Terrell could have been watching them. She didn’t know that anyone at all had been watching them. The last thing she wanted to be was a piece of apartment complex gossip, and she didn't want to cause Justin to be caught up in unnecessary drama.

Char blew a puff of smoke out of the corner of her mouth.

"I hear ya. But, I see a lot of things, girl. Like the way you both be eyeing each other, and how he's always the one that escorts you from the parking lot. I’m surprised nothing happened. We both know you like his fine ass. I for damn sure would have tried to get at him."

“Girl, shut up. The last thing I want is a man.”

Char rolled her eyes, digging a long finger nail into her hair to scratch her scalp.

"Every bitch wants a man. Besides, no one said anything about being in a relationship. You just need some dick from time to time. Shit, I know I do. Terrell gets on my nerves, but that boy can lay down some pipe. Mmm mmm.”

Morgan frowned up her face as Char stared off into space, nodding her head in agreement with herself.

"I don’t want to hear about nothing y’all do. My stomach already weak.”

Char snapped out of her daydream and smiled.

"Bitch, don’t hate.”

They both burst out laughing as Morgan's phone began to vibrate. She pulled the device from her back pocket and read a new message. She held back a smile, biting down on the inside of her lip.

"Hey, it's Justin" was all it said.

She texted back a quick, "hi," then slid the phone into her pocket. She'd wait a little bit before answering his next text. Regardless of their sexual relationship status she didn't want to appear too available.

“Anyways girl, what’s going on with Devon's ol’ crazy ass?”

Morgan’s smile turned into a frown and she stared off at the grass.

"Nothin'. I haven’t seen or heard from him in a while.”

"Good," Char nodded. "You need to get you a gun or something. That way the next time he decides to show up you can scare his ass.”

“Nah, I don’t know how to shoot a gun, nor do I want it in my house with Chloe. You know she is curious.”

“Ooh, I know maybe a taser or something. Then you can shock the hell out of his nuts. That will show him a thing or too. Maybe he won’t be such a dead beat Dad to any more children.”

Char chuckled, taking another swing of her beer. Morgan laughed along. She'd never really thought about getting any weapons to defend herself against Devon. She really didn’t know what she would do next time - especially if he ever decided to pop up on her in public somewhere. She'd always considered taking self-defense classes, but in between working and taking care of Chloe she didn’t know whether or not she would have the time or money.

“Hopefully after everything gets settled in court I won’t have to worry about him again. I could probably get a restraining order too.”

“Char! Char!”

They both looked up at the voice interrupting them. It was Terrell leaning over the railing with his chest bare and his hands holding up his pants.

"What?!” Char shouted back in annoyance.

“I’m hungry,” he said innocently.

His phony angelic nature only made Char even more annoyed and she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you see I’m busy? Shit! Fix a sandwich or something Terrell, damn! Always talking about you hungry. Shit, I don’t care. Make your own damn dinner.”

Morgan watched as Terrell sighed heavily and walked back inside the apartment. She turned her gaze to Char just as she lit another cigarette.

"That’s the shit I be talking about right there. Always want something like he can’t do shit for himself. You got two legs and two hands. Figure something out.”

Char went on and on, venting about Terrell. Morgan didn’t know how she did it. She was glad that she wasn’t in a relationship with Terrell herself. She would have been forced to kick him out a long time ago.

“Anyways girl like I was saying, yeah put his ass on a restraining order because he can’t be just showing up here - especially with you trying to catch a new boo. But you might not need a restraining order if you have Robocop as a boyfriend. Devon wouldn’t dare step foot in this complex knowing he's here.”

“Girl, stop. No one is dating anyone. He's just doing his job protecting people.”

Morgan turned her head to try and hide the blush on her cheeks. Char flicked her ashes down into her discarded bottle.

"Yeah, whatever honey. He do a lot more protecting of you than anything else around here.”

“That’s not true, Char. Everyone around here is practically terrified of him.”

“With him marching around here the way he does? Hell yeah. He doesn’t have to say shit to me for me to be scared of him. His aura screams 'don’t fuck with me'."

Morgan smiled. His aura said a lot of other things too.

After saying goodnight to Char Morgan headed inside for the night. She passed through the doorway on the leftside of the apartment and traveled down the short hall that emptied into her bedroom. There was a dresser with a small TV on top directly in front of her, a queen sized bed slightly to her right, and the doorway to the bathroom and walk-in closet behind her next to the hall.

Walking to the dresser, she pulled the phone from her back pocket and checked her messages. There was another text from Justin.

"How are you?"

She considered it for a moment.

"I'm okay, how are you?"

She set the phone on the dresser and went into the bathroom to brush her hair before getting into bed. Only a few minutes passed until she heard the phone vibrate against the wooden surface again. Morgan picked it up on her way to the edge of the bed. She turned on the small lamp on the nightstand and pulled back the blankets.

"Alright. It's fuckin cold out here... What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just climbed into bed."

"In bed? Are you just teasing me or is that an invitation?"

Morgan smiled and put the phone down. Who know the Marine could be so flirtatious? She needed a witty reply.

"When I'm inviting you, you'll know. Remember last time?"

"Ha ha, touché lil girl."

A bright smile spread over her lips and her cheeks flushed red. Lil girl. She hadn't been called that in forever.

"So," his next text message read, "tell me, how long have you been single?"

Morgan laughed out loud. It was a relevant question, it just seemed to be coming a little late.

"Too long."

"Same. Why so long?"

She shrugged to herself.

"I don't know. Waiting for the right guy to come along and give me what I need, I guess."

"What do you need?"

"Why so many questions?"

"Why so secretive?"

Morgan snorted.

"You really want to talk about it now? We can, but aren't you at work?"

"Yes. I got til 3am, and everyone here is scared of me, remember? Ain't got shit to do."

Morgan smiled softly, mulling over her words. She wrote and erased several drafts before replying.

"I need someone who's going to let me be me, accept the fact that I'm always right, and love my daughter as much as I do."

Justin sat back in his chair, kicking his boots up on the desk. Tim was at the desk infront of him, streaming a standup special from Netflix on his desktop. It was a quiet evening with few calls, and Dale had already clocked out for the night.

His blue eyes scanned over the text again, taking in Morgan's words. Justin hadn't spent much time with Chloe, but from what he had seen she was a remarkable little girl. He was sure any man - such as himself, for example - could easily grow to love her . Morgan, too, seemed to be an amazing individual. He didn't know her very well either, but he was very open to finding out.

"You're delusional," he typed back. "How are you gonna be right when the universe has already declared that I'm always right?"

"You up?"

Morgan read over the text message, blinking her eyes as they adjusted to the bright light of the screen. It was late in the evening - hours after she'd come inside from her nightly beer with Char. She and Justin had traded text messages for awhile before he had to head off on patrol and she laid down to get some sleep. Now it was nearing 2am -more than an hour after they'd said goodnight- and he was back again.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I'm bored," he wrote. "Come talk to me."

Morgan sighed, thinking it over. On one hand she wanted too. She liked talking to Justin, obviously. She wanted to spend as much time getting to know him as possible. But then again, she really should stay in bed. She had an early day tomorrow, and a million things to do. She didn't have time to be running around talking to Justin all night.

"I don't know," she told him. "It's really late."

"Pleeeeeease :) Come on, I'm already outside."

Morgan snorted and rolled her eyes at his smiley face- although it was slightly adorable. Climbing from the bed she peeked between the blinds masking her window facing out to the porch. In the distance she could see his tall frame stalking across the lawn camouflaged by the dark.

"Be out in a second."

She scurried into the closet, grabbing her pink and white polka dot bathrobe off a hook on the wall. The grey shorts and teal tank top she was wearing to sleep in would have to do. On her way through the living room Morgan stuck her head in Chloe's door, finding the little girl laying peacefully in bed with her thumb in her mouth. Morgan smiled, quietly pulling the door shut again and heading outside to meet Justin.

When she opened the door he was already standing on the porch, tapping his boots against the wooden floorboards. His head lifted at the sound of the door hinges, and he made his way over to her, enveloping her in a hug before stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning back against the railing.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"What are you doing?"

Justin shrugged, looking around the empty yard.

"Not much," he said. "Just waiting to get off."

Morgan snorted, but didn't speak. Justin shook his head with a grin.

"Dirty girl. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"I'm sorry. Char is a bad influence."

"Sure, blame her," he teased.

Morgan leaned back against the wall opposite him and hugged her robe tighter around her body.

"What were you doing?" He asked.

"I was trying to sleep, but this crazy white boy won't stay off my phone."

Justin sucked his teeth.

"Damn white boys; always causing problems."

Morgan giggled.

"I know. Always trying to keep a sista down. I have to ton of shit to do tomorrow."

"Shame. What are you going to do about this guy?"

"I don't know yet; haven't decided. Sometimes it's nice having him around, and he is kind of cute."

"Yeah. But, he keeps you up late."

"True. I do need my beauty sleep."

"Yep."

Morgan's jaw dropped and she stared at him. Justin took in her expression and burst out in laughter. She looked genuinely shocked and offended. Her eyes narrowed into little slits when he started to laugh, and she threw a half-hearted punch at his arm.

"Jerk."

"I had too," he smiled. "Your face was priceless."

"So glad my beauty sleep was interrupted at two in the morning so I could stand outside and be entertainment."

Justin straightened up, his face turning serious again.

"Okay, listen," he said. "It's not too busy right now. If you want I could come in and keep you company - make sure that guy doesn't bother you anymore tonight."

Morgan lowered her head and looked at him through her lashes with an expression that clearly read: you've got to be kidding.

"Come on," he coaxed. "I'll protect you."

Inside Morgan's already overworked heart picked up pace. She was no dummy, she knew what he was hinting at. His pleas for her to come talk outside had been a ploy just to get to this moment right here. On the plus side at least now she didn't have to wonder about being bad in bed. But, just because he offered didn't necessarily make it a good idea. Before she'd had the excuse of being drunk to justify her actions. This time it would be straight up stupidity and primal desire.

"Really? Will you tuck me in and tell me a bedtime story too?"

This time it was Justin's turn to laugh. He stepped close to her - his smell of musk and dirt invading her senses. His voice was deep and overly cocky when he spoke again.

"Oh, I'll put you to bed alright. Get your ass inside."

Morgan chuckled nervously, following his instructions and stepping back into the dark apartment. This Marine had so many layers. He was cold while working, flirtatious over text, and dominating in bed. Never in a million years did she picture herself as being the type of woman who let a man boss her around. Especially after getting away from Devon, Morgan didn't like anyone telling her what to do. But, Justin -for some reason- was different. Every comment he made he ended with his trademark, heart-stopping smile. That alone was enough to make her do anything he wanted. Aside from that there was the daringly sexy way in which he said it. He just stated it. There was no "please", no negotiating, just a command that he expected to be followed. His time in the military had obviously done a lot for his self-esteem. He was confident and secure. His confidence only made her want to obey him more.

Once they'd passed over the threshold and into the apartment she heard the door close and lock behind her.

"Where's Chloe?" He whispered.

"Sleeping."

"Ah. White boy's not bothering her?"

"Not at the moment, no."

Silently he followed her to the hall that extended into her bedroom. When they were far enough away from Chloe's room he broke the silence with his radio.

"Timberlake to office."

It took a second for Dale's scratchy voice to answer.

"This is office."

"There's some noise in the back lot. I'm gonna check it out. Radio if you need me."

"10-4, Hotshot."

Justin rolled his eyes, not bothering to press the talk button and respond.

"I hate that guy."

Morgan moved to the foot of her bed and turned to look at him. He'd pulled his gun from the holster and set it on the dresser, and was working on undoing the buckle to his belt.

"Dale isn't so bad," she said. "Where's Tim?"

"Took the night off for his and Tamara's anniversary."

"Awe, that's sweet."

Justin eyed her, his eyes taking a long, slow drag down her body; from her soft hair, past her polka dot bathrobe, to her polished toenails. His movements were slow and calculated as he stepped over to her and gave a rough shove to her shoulders. She fell back onto the bed with a shriek. He stood there, the lights from the walkway outside shining in through the blinds and bouncing off the nametag on his shirt.

"Mmhmm. Very."

Without another word he climbed on top of her, pinned her to the mattress with his weight and covered her lips with his. His hands - growing more brazen by the day - parted her bathrobe and slipped under her tank top. They were freezing cold against her stomach because of the cold night air; but they left hot trails on her skin as he slipped his arms around her, cuddling her even closer. Morgan pulled back, separating their lips by mere millimeters.

"How long do you think you have before Dale starts looking for you?"

"About a half hour."

"We better make the most of it."

Justin didn't reply, he just smiled and leaned in to kiss her again.

Twenty-five minutes later the room was quiet, save for the rustling of Justin's clothes as he pulled his uniform back on. Morgan was laying on the bed. Her ebony locks were sweaty and tangled, splayed out across the white pillowcases. The blanket was pulled up to her waist, and the sheet was over her bare breasts. She was laying on her side, watching the guard as he dressed. His heavy black pants were back on, and he was working on the velcro straps of his bulletproof vest. The rest of his uniform was in a loose pile on the floor by his boots. When he was done with the vest he reached down for his shirt and clip-on radio, knocking his belt to the side. Morgan's eyes flashed to the dresser where the faint outline of his gun lay.

"What kind of gun do you carry?" Morgan asked meekly.

She'd never given much thought to his gun before, but her previous conversation with Char had sparked a slight interest. It would be a small comfort to have around in case of a real emergency.

"A glock 23."

"Is that big?"

"It's a .40 cal."

"Is that big?"

He chuckled, flipping his shirt right side out and sliding it on.

"Big enough."

Morgan was quiet for a moment, choosing her words and working up the courage to say them.

"Can I hold it?"

Her eyes could barely make out the outline of his form, but she knew he'd frozen by the lack of rustling.

"No."

"Please?"

"Why?"

"I don't know, I just want too. I've never seen one before. Well, not up close anyway."

A beat passed and he didn't speak, so Morgan assumed he was sticking with his original answer. She was about to roll over and try to ease the growing ache in her hips when a short series of clanks rose through the air. It was the obvious sound of metal on metal; the trademark sliding of a gun hammer. Then his arm appeared in front of her, holding out a shiny dark mass.

It took Morgan a moment to reach for it, her hand a little unsteady as she did. He'd cleared the chamber and removed the clip so there was no way for her to hurt herself, but to her it still seemed like a snake coiled and ready to strike at any moment. It was heavier than expected - cold and hard beneath her fingertips. She could sense the power it possessed.

Sitting up in bed, Morgan tucked the sheet under her arms and held the gun in both hands to examine every inch. The bed dipped when Justin sat down beside her, doing up the laces on his boots.

"Since when are you interested in guns?"

"Char and I were talking about Devon yesterday. She thought maybe getting one would be a good idea."

"Have you ever fired one before?"

"No."

She didn't even have to look at him to see the smile on his face.

"Perhaps you should start with that?"

"Maybe. How much do these cost?"

"Depends on what size you want. Anywhere between three-hundred and seven-hundred bucks."

"Oh."

Justin finished his right boot, and turned to his left, his eyes finding her in the dark. She was still sitting there staring down at the empty gun.

"Are you really serious about this?"

"It's just an idea. I want to protect myself."

Her voice was soft and unsure as she spoke. Justin's mind flashed back to the night a few weeks ago when he'd watched Devon assault her on the porch. His heart had stopped dead and dropped to his stomach. Fighting wars overseas, he'd seen plenty of women falls victims to the brutal hands of the men around them. The very ones who had promised to take care of them hit them, tortured them, and terrorized them. It was sad to see that the country he was laying his life on the line for was infected with the same kind of disgusting men. He could understand Morgan's fear and her instincts to protect herself and her daughter, because when men like this weren't dealt with they just became worse and worse.

Justin held his hand out, taking his gun back and locking it into the holster.

"If you're really interested, I'll teach you how to shoot. But, you need a lock box to keep it safe from Chloe. Preferably a combination lock, that way there's no key for her to find."

"Okay. Thanks."

Justin went back to his boots, tightening the laces. Morgan watched in silence as he tied the knot. He could feel her eyes on him, and he knew she wasn't talking because she was deep in thought. The worry was radiating off of her. When he was done, he put a hand on her head, petting her curls.

"Get some sleep," he told her. "It's late."

Morgan nodded, and Justin leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead. His thumb smoothed over her cheek as his lips pressed against her skin. When he sat back Morgan relaxed into the bed, her head sinking into the plush pillows. Justin pulled the blankets up and tucked them in around her. Then he rose from the bed and started to leave the room. Before he got too far away, he stopped short and turned back to her.

"You know that I meant what I said earlier, right?" He asked. "I will protect you."

"I know," she said.

He stood there for the second, not moving or speaking. His mind was reeling over what he'd just said. It wasn't every day that he offered to look after someone. Sure, he did it on a daily basis, but that was because the money was good and he got to play with guns. For him to offer to take care of someone they had to be special to him.

When the quiet got to be too much he cleared his throat.

"I'll lock up," he said. And with that he turned and left the room. A moment later Morgan heard the front door open and shut, then his boots descending the porch steps.

***

Justin paced back and forth behind his platoon as they lay positioned on the ground firing their weapons. It was Sunday morning during drill weekend, and they were going through an exercise at the rifle range. The Marine Corps were known for their accuracy and marksmanship. Every Marine was expected to be a riflemen first and foremost.

They had finished assembling their M16's and now they were on the practice range. He continued to pace back and forth as the row of privates aimed their rifles toward the designated targets a couple hundred feet in the distance. His eyes scanned over the men until they came to a stop on something that caught his eye. PFC Strickland was fumbling with his rifle, adjusting it on his shoulder and taking forever to line up his target. Justin stood behind him for a second as he watched the Private First Class struggle, then he let out a dramatic sigh.

"Sergeant Michaels!” He called out to one of platoon leaders.

The sergeant jogged over from his post at the other end of the range and stood at-ease in front of Staff Sergeant Timberlake.

“Yes sir?”

“Do I have Marines in my platoon that don’t know how to use a damn rifle?!”

He motioned with his head down toward the private on the ground, and then walked away. That was all it took for him to get things done around here. Behind him he could hear the sergeant yelling at the Marine on the ground, ripping him a new one in front of the group.

Rifle safety was something that the Marine Corps were very strict about, because it was easy to injure yourself as well as others if you weren’t careful. Training exercises were done using live ammunition, so it was important to know the ins and outs of all the weaponry being used. Accurate repetition led to muscle memory, and muscle memory was incredibly important in a combat setting.

Justin stood back, folding his hands behind his back and resumed watching the rest of the men. Before anyone could resume firing, a gun went off. The bullet ricocheted off the beams supporting the tarp providing shade of their heads. The snapping sound caused everyone who wasn’t already on the ground to drop fast - a byproduct of previous military experience. A hiss meant the bullet was close but not dangerous, a snap meant you needed to get out of the way fast.

The Staff Sergeants chest hit the ground, a cloud of dirt flying up around him. His mind flashed back to a day almost 7 years ago.

Loud booms echoed through the air, the impact of flying grenades signaled by the dust and debris they sent into the air. Shots were coming from every direction, the clanking of rounds as they ejected from the barrel was deafening. The smell of gun powder was thick. Various Marines were scattered around the field with hand-held M60 machine guns, each putting out about 200 rounds a minute. The vehicle mounted M24 machine guns fired a devastating 500 rounds per minute each. Somewhere off in the distance a team was operating the M48 grenade launcher, dropping more than 12 miniature bombs every 60 seconds.
 

"Get down! Get your fucking head down!!" The drill sergeant was yelling. "Is there something about that thick skull of yours I don't Timberlake?! Is it bullet proof?!"
 

"No sir!" A ragged Justin answered. 

"Then get your face in the dirt!"
 

"Yes sir!"
 

He spoke the words but inside he rolled his eyes. They'd been training since 4am, and it was well past noon now. They hadn't had much of anything to eat or drink - just constant physical activity and yelling. Crawling through the mud of this obstacle course was the closest thing they'd had to a break so far. The mud was coating his clothes, seeping into his pants and sliding under his shirt. How much further down on the ground did this instructor expect him to get?
 

"Buford, what the hell is your problem?!"
 

Thank God, the instructor turned his attention to one of the other recruits. Buford had been shipped to Pendleton from Utah, and his constant screw ups were a favorite target of the drill sergeants. Buford was hobbling as fast as he could from the wall climb toward the mud pits. He was out of breath and in obvious pain.
 

"Sir, nothing, sir. I just hurt my ankle coming over that wall, sir."
 

"Boo hoo Buford," the instructor pretended to rub his eyes. "Do you want me to go call your Mommy to come get you?"
 

"No sir."
 

"Do I need to have a pretty little nurse come out here and hold an ice pack on it for you?"
 

"No sir." 

"I think I should, because apparently I have a pack of fragile little baby dolls for recruits."
 

"Sir, no sir."
 

"Then get down there and get the led out, Sensitive Susie!"
 

Buford dropped to his knees instantly, slithering through the mud in the tracks of the men ahead. 

"Timberlake, if I have to tell you to get your fucking head down again I'm gonna blow it off myself!"
 

"Yes sir!"
 

"What's the key to survival men?!"
 

Robson, an over-achieving brown-noser trying to earn a spot as team leader sat up on his knees a few feet ahead of Justin.
 

"Sir, the key to survival is staying out of the line of fire, si-."
 

Before Robson could finish his answer a bullet sank into the right side of his neck, exploding out of his left cheek. Pink mist mixed with the dirt floating in the air. 

"Cease fire!! Cease fire!!" The drill sergeant was screaming as he ran to the team operating the nearby 50 cal machine gun. 

Robson's body stayed upright for a moment, and Justin heard him gurgle and groan as if trying to speak before finally slumping over into a lifeless mass. Justin was frozen in shock. They weren't even two weeks into boot camp yet. Pendleton was far from the front lines of the fighting in the Middle East. No one was supposed to be dying here. 

Justin reached up, wiping the mud from his face as he watched Robson's body. A red puddle had begun to form underneath him and soak into the ground. When Justin pulled his hand away he looked down at his fingers, his eye brows raising when he took sight of the smeared red lines. Robson's blood was splattered all over him. He looked over at Becks who had been crawling ahead. Beck's eyes were wide as saucers as he stared at the blood on his own pants. Then he looked over at his friend Chad. His face was dotted with red drops. They were all stained in Robson's blood.
 

"Stupid bastard!" The instructor was yelling, making his way back over to the recruits. 

The field had gone silent now, everyone in shock over what had just happened. The Marines stayed on the ground, traumatized and afraid to move. The drill sergeant was pacing -visibly upset- as he waited for emergency personnel to arrive. 

"You stupid fucking bastard!" He yelled at Robson's body. "Why can't you follow orders?! What did I keep telling all of you?! Keep your God damned heads down!!"

Justin looked up, seeing the same private he'd just had reprimanded standing there holding his rifle. His face was frozen in shock, his eyes absolutely petrified. He'd fired the weapon on accident, and now he knew his CO was going to have his ass for breakfast.

“Is everyone okay!?” Sgt. Michaels called out as they all began to get up from the ground.

Justin shot up in a burst of anger, stomping over to the Marine whose gun had gone off.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

“Sir..I—I.”

Justin grabbed hold of private's neck and threw him down onto the ground, pressing his knee into his chest as he pinned him down.

“Do you realize that you could have blown your fucking face off!? Not to mention mine?"

The Marine underneath him began to tremble within, but he dared not show it.

"I'm gonna tell you this once Private, and that's it," Justin said. "Incompetent, retarded ass pansies don't survive in my platoon! Either shape up, or I'll make sure you ship out.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

At this point Justin was sweating and panting heavily as the rest of the men stared. He could feel the eyes on him, wondering what he was going to do or say next. Anywhere else in the world one of these guys would have probably tried to come to the privates aid. But in this world - the military world - you don't dare try to tell a higher ranking officer what to do. Besides, these guys didn't see what Justin had just seen; didn't feel what he'd just felt. They had no idea what it was like.

Justin looked around and then stood up roughly. The man he'd been pinning down groaned and reached up to hold his chest. Justin suddenly felt like the weight of the world was coming down on his shoulders - suffocating the life out of him. He needed to get away from here.

"Get him out of my face, and get back on those targets!” He shouted, making his way off the field.

There were only a couple hours of drill left, and Justin was no longer in the mood to participate in any of it. He kicked open the door to the locker room, huffing and puffing so hard one would expect to see a cloud of smoke exhale from his lungs. He yanked his shirt over his head and threw it against the metal sink before dropping down on to the bench and holding his head in his hands. He was sick of the flashbacks, and the migraines that came along with them.

Getting back to his feet Justin went over to his locker and grabbed his duffel bag; searching through it until he found what he was looking over. He pulled out his orange pill bottle and popped two into his mouth, washing it down with some water from a nearby fountain. When he stood up he saw himself in the mirrors above the sink. His brow was covered in sweat. The veins on the side of his neck were pulsating. His blue eyes were now red and glossy.

He knew that he had to be more disciplined about taking his medication - especially if he wanted to be around Morgan more often. He didn’t want her to see him freak out and go into combat mode while they were together - especially if Chloe was around. He definitely didn’t want to scare them. He just hated to take the medication because it made him feel so unlike himself. Aside from bringing the stigma that you'd lost your mind, it also made everything feel foggy and surreal.

With a sigh Justin took a moment to regain his composure and then went to the showers. When he was done he threw on a fresh pair of boxers, a clean undershirt, his desert camie uniform, and headed out the door. It was another 20 minutes before he passed through the gates and pulled off base onto the main road. There was a stretch of empty fields for the next mile or so until displays for tire repair shops and fast food restaurants signaled your arrival in town. It was around 4pm on Sunday afternoon, and traffic was light on the street. Justin's hand tightened on the steering wheel, twisting against the leather. He was calmer now, after his shower; the pills must have started to kick in. But he still felt riled up inside, like a caged panther that had been pacing its cage all day waiting for a moment to run free.

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel he retrieved his phone out of his pants pocket. His eyes shifted back and forth between the road and his phone as he went through his messages until he found Morgan’s name. When his rolled up to a red light he quickly send a text.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

He dropped the phone on his lap when the light turned green. By the time he got to the next one there was already a reply waiting for him.

"Just cleaning. What's up?”

"Nothing, just getting out of drill. Got plans later?"

"Nope. Off today, remember?"

"I do."

He smiled, recalling their conversation from the night before. Normally he had to make two or three rounds of bed checks when his unit met for drill weekends. The recent advancements in technology made it hard to keep the men focused. They kept each other up all night in the dorms with the dings, chimes, and bright lights from their cell phones. Other guys clogged the bathrooms as they hogged the mirrors to take pictures for Facebook and girlfriends across the country. But this weekend he hadn't done any bed checks at all. While the guys groaned and moaned at each other to 'shut up' all night he was holed up in his own room trading messages with Morgan. They talked about Chloe's tantrum when it was time to clean her room, and what a useless piece of garbage Devon had been so far as a father. Then they talked about the Marine Corps, and the places Justin had travelled to so far. He'd already been to all the places she'd wanted to see, but that didn't mean he wouldn't mind going again as a tourist with her.

"Want some company?”

“Sure, I'd like that.”

“On the way.”

Morgan placed her phone down on the counter and quickly began to mop the rest of her kitchen floor. She was in full-on cleaning mode in an old pair of bleach-spotted sweat pants, a raggedy tee shirt, and her hair pulled up into a high ponytail covered by a bandana.

When the floor was finished she hurriedly placed all the cleaning supplies back in the closet and bee lined it to the bathroom to wash the scent of pine sol and bleach from her body. She knew that she had a good twenty minutes to make herself look presentable before he arrived. She was glad she'd taken the time out last night to shave all over - not thinking that he would come over today, but just as a part of her usual weekly maintenance.

She rinsed her body off with her favorite vanilla cinnamon body wash. It made her skin feel soft and smooth, and the scent lasted almost all day. Once she was satisfied at her cleanliness she wrapped a towel around her body and headed to her bedroom to find something nice to wear. She wanted to look good, but not too good. After a few minutes of shifting through hangers she decided on a simple lavender colored strapless sun dress that fell just above her knees showing off her long creamy brown legs. She slipped it on over her pink and white pinstripe underwear set and began to tousle her hair a bit. She skipped the make-up because it was warm and she didn't want to look too done-up. But, she did apply a bit of a sheer shimmery lip gloss to her lips and put a pair of studs to her ears.

Morgan was growing more and more nervous by the minute as she continued to play with her hair. It wasn't like she hadn't seen him before. Hell, she'd had sex with him before. But every time she saw him it made her heart beat double fast like it was the first time all over again. Her interest him had grown exponentially. Justin was turning out to be much more charming, intelligent, and funny than she'd anticipated. He'd travelled all over the world, and seen a lot of things. He listened to her silly stories about Chloe, and told her all the great, supportive things she needed to hear in regards to her court battle with Devon. Morgan had never met a man like him before; he seemed almost too good to be true.

Unsatisfied with her hair, Morgan eventually added a couple of loose curls and let it hang down over her shoulders. As she was spraying a little bit of vanilla body spray she noticed her hands beginning to tremble. Her stomach was jumpy, as if filled with dozens of butterflies. She didn't know whether to throw up, take a few deep breaths, or do a shot of Jack Daniels.

Before she could decide there were a couple of quick knocks at the door. Her pulse only went up, and the trembling in her hands got worse.

“Calm down Morgan,” she whispered to herself.

She couldn’t believe how childish she was being. He was just a man. It was one thing for him to make her nervous, but this was just ridiculous.

As she made her way out of the bedroom and to the front door, she smoothed her slender fingers over her dress and through her hair once more. The knock sounded again as she peeked through the curtain to make sure it was him. When she opened the door her eyes widened as she took in his entire frame. Through the window, she'd only glanced briefly enough to recognize his face; she'd failed to distinguish the difference in his attire.

“Hi,” she said softly.

Morgan stepped to the side and Justin stepped into the apartment, his eyes roaming over her.

“Hey.”

She was absolutely stunning. Her skin was glowing, shimmering, glistening - whatever you could call it. It looked so smooth he wanted to reach out and run his hands all over her body. She smelled like something sweet and warm; like she'd stepped straight out of a bakery. To her he smelled like fresh air and mud.

“Wo-would you like something to drink? I have Pepsi, water, juice....”

Morgan stuttered a bit as she looked up at him. When his glaze met hers she adverted her eyes, focusing on the wall above the sofa.

“Water's fine.”

When she turned and headed for the kitchen he grinned to himself. He could see how nervous she was on the outside, and it was exactly how he felt on the inside; he was just better trained at hiding it. But, it was good that he made her feel that way, right? When women are indifferent, they aren't interested.

“Okay. Have a seat, I'll be right back.”

Morgan pointed towards the sofa before floating off into the kitchen. His eyes followed after her, watching the sway in her hips and her longs sticking out from the bottom of her dress. He wondered what that thing would look like on her bedroom floor in about fifteen minutes. When he heard the cabinet door open and the sound of clinking glasses he surveyed the living room around him. It was nicely put together. None of Chloe’s things were laying around like his last unplanned visit.

He moved over to the front window, looking out at the grassy knoll and the play structure in the distance. His car was parked in the very last visitor spot, hopefully far enough out of the way that no one would notice it. He could see one of the guards, Eddie, in the back lot posted up on the wall a few yards from another guard, Nick. It was a pattern Justin had shown them, and he was glad to see it was still in use when he wasn't around.

"So, how's your day?” He asked, plopping down on the couch.

“Pretty good. Got Chloe up at a decent hour. She's off on a play date one of her little friends now. Then I spent most of the morning cleaning. How was drill?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Bullshit. I have this new CO and he's all about PT. I hate that shit. Like I want to run in circles all morning."

Justin left out his flashback during training for obvious reasons. Morgan returned from the kitchen with a glass of ice water. She handed it to him before sitting down on the other end of the sofa. She tucked her feet under her body and leaned her head against the pillows. She was a little more comfortable now that he'd been here for a moment, but she was still nervous.

He took a few sips before sitting the glass down on a coaster and leaning back against the couch. They both stared at each other for a minute before either one of them spoke.

"You don't have to sit all the way over there, you know," he said.

Morgan smirked. It probably looked a little silly, her sitting so far away from him as if they were strangers. She just didn't know what to do around him. She wanted his attention, and she knew she had it, but she had no idea what to do with it.

Scooting closer, she leaned her head on his shoulder when he lifted his arm. The fabric of his uniform was stiff and dense, scratchy against her face. It was obviously made to withstand some serious wear and tear. His hand rubbed along her side, tickling her ribcage and making its way down to her hip. She sighed and relaxed into him; he could feel her getting more comfortable when her weight sank into his side.

"You look beautiful,” he said.

And just like that the butterflies came back. Morgan’s face grew warm as she tried to keep a wide smile from breaking out across her lips. She lifted her head a little to glance into his eyes again.

"Thank you. You look handsome. Never seen this uniform before."

As she spoke the words her fingers moved over his chest, lightly picking at the two patches that read US Marines and Timberlake.

“I take it you like it,” he teased.

Morgan giggled with a nod.

"I'm more interested in the guy in the uniform, but it is a nice little bonus. Kind of like having my own personal GIJoe."

He laughed a bit to try to keep his face from turning red. It had been long time since a woman made him even remotely blush.

"That douche was in the Army," he said. "I'm a Marine. Those pansies wish they could be like us."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Common civilian mistake, just don't let it happen again."

Justin turned his attention to the television, trying to ignore the feel of her eyes on the side of his face. Morgan was biting back a grin at his minor offense. He was kidding, she could tell; but, in reality it probably was a real gripe of the military branches.

The pair sat silent for a moment, staring at the television but paying no real attention at all. The quiet was driving Morgan crazy; the sexual tension was getting to her big time. She wanted him. She wanted him so bad she could feel the ache pulsing through her blood, throbbing with every beat. The tension was so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife. She bounced her leg up and down, trying to ease the anxiety of the moment. Suddenly she popped up, startling herself and causing Justin to hold back a laugh.

"Would you like something to eat? A sandwich or something?”

She didn't wait for a response, just jumped up from the sofa and made her way back into the kitchen. She didn't notice Justin slowly rise from his seat with a smile, following quietly behind her. He watched from the door way as she scavenged through the cabinets and refrigerator in her own personal frenzy.

He stepped towards her when she began fumbling with twist tie around the bread. His hands slid down her arms, searing hot on her skin. He nuzzled his face in her hair, inhaling a deep whiff of her cinnamon scent; his lips brushed against her ear and down her jaw.

“I’m good. I ate before I came.”

Gripping her elbows, he turning her around until she was facing him. Then he stepped in closer until she was pinned in between the counter and his body. He could feel her trembling slightly beneath his touch, hear the heaviness of her breathing. He was in total control of the situation, she was at his mercy. She was the perfect, beautiful gazelle for his caged panther: vulnerable and unsuspecting. He looked into her brown eyes as she stared back, anxiously awaiting his next move. He placed his hands on both sides of her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss.

That was all it took for Morgan’s body to unravel. She wrapped her arms around his body, her fingers grabbing hold of the back of his jacket and pulling him closer. Justin took that as his cue to drop his hands and clinch the back of her thighs. He lifted her up onto the counter top and wrapped her legs around his waist. Hormones shot through the roof as their kisses grew more and more intense. Hands were roaming over bodies as articles of clothing began to drop to the floor. Soon Justin was standing shirtless and the top of Morgan’s dress was pulled down low around her waist.

The cups of her exposed bra were folded down, and his lips left a trail heading South from her collarbone. He pulled one of her breasts into his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth over her hardened nipple until she was wiggling on the counter. Then he let go and moved over to the other, showing it equal attention and waiting until she was whimpering softly before he pulled back. She watched him as he pressed her breasts together, totally focusing on the task at hand. He tweaked her nipples with his fingers, squeezing and massaging her skin. He loved listening to her. Everything he did caused a specific reaction in her; there was a certain moan, shiver, or sigh assigned to every nerve ending in her body. She was his instrument and he was playing his own personal sweet symphony.

She was a ragdoll by the time he picked her up again, finally satisfied with the attention he'd shown her body. She'd been moaning and trembling uncontrollably as he'd pinched and toyed with her. But when he looked up at her face, she was starry eyed; long lost in a haze of pleasure and arousal. He felt a twitch and a tightening in his groin; he needed this girl.

Justin lifted her up once more, cupping his hands under her butt as he moved from the kitchen to the bedroom. He rounded the corner into the hall and walked until his legs hit the bed. Then he gently laid her down and stood up over her. Morgan was watching him with lust filled eyes; her pink and white striped panties buzzed like a neon sign against her skin. Justin's body was on fire, his back burning from the deep lines she'd scratched into his flesh. He licked his lips slowly before his spoke, his mouth practically salivating at the thoughts running through his mind.

"Get on your knees," he said.

Morgan was excited by the low, rough grumble in his voice. Right now he wasn't himself; he was that dominating Marine who expected everything he said to be followed. He looked like his usual self except for the dark hunger in his eyes. She felt hunted; as if he'd been searching for her for a long time and now he had a list a thousand miles long of all the things he wanted to do to her.

Slowly crawling to her knees and turning her back to him, she saw him begin to undo his pants. The shiny silver of the buckle matched the two dog tags hanging on a chain around his neck. The fabric of his uniform brushed against the backs of her thighs -rough and abrasive- and she felt the bed shift as he moved. Morgan didn't know what to do, what do say, what to expect. Justin wasn't saying a word, and she was afraid to look back.

His legs inched hers further apart, spreading her thighs wide. She'd been leaning down on her elbows when he grabbed her back of her neck, pressing her face down into the pillows. She let out a gasp of surprise, but didn't fight against him. The bottom of her lavender dress was pulled up and over her hips. Her eyes closed as she realized she was on full display for him. She could feel his eyes on her body, soaking in the curve of her hips and the arch of her back.

Soft, warm fingers tugged at the crotch of her panties, pulling them to the side. Next something was rubbing between her lower lips, gliding up and down past her entrance. His hand gripped her hip tightly and she felt him push into her. He gave her all of him; every single inch of taut, hot flesh was forcing its way in.

Morgan cried out, a mixture of pleasure and surprise. Her hands balled into fists, wrinkling the fabric of her pillowcases in her palms. Her body clamped down on him, fighting against his invasion. This only added more fuel to Justin's flaming fire as he reached forward, pushing her head back down into the pillow. Her moans were the sexiest thing in the world to him. But, she also had neighbors, and he doubted she wanted to be the talk of the complex tomorrow.

When she relaxed down into the bed his hand trailed up her back until they both rested on her hips - his thumbs pressing into the small of her back. He watched himself penetrate her with long, deep strokes. She swallowed him, then cried out softly when he withdrew. He didn't know what it was about her - what she had that other women didn't - but he never wanted to leave this. Her body - her sex - was as closest thing to perfect he'd ever felt before.

His eyes locked onto the side of her face. Her long curls had flopped over her eyes. They were squeezed shut and her teeth clinching down onto her bottom lip as she tried to keep her sounds to herself. Slowly he started to speed up to his usual pace. He remembered the way she'd been before - the noises she made and the expressions on her face. He wanted to see them again. He became relentless as he pushed into her; the sound of their skin slapping together sounded through the room. 

Morgan had no idea what to do. She didn't want this time to be like last time. She wanted to participate. She wanted to sit up and look back at him, watch his face and see if he was enjoying it as much as she was. But unfortunately wanting to do something, and being able to do something, were two completely different things. All she was really able to do was try to keep her voice down - and she was doing a mediocre job with that at best. There was just too much masculinity happening for one woman to handle: the uniform, the smell, his rough tone, the way he was being so deliciously aggressive. Part of her mind was still having trouble processing the fact that this was actually happening.

She reached back, her fingers desperate for something to hold on to - something to ground herself in the moment. Her hand landed on the side of his thigh, and fisted the loose material of his pocket. Her nails scratched along the thick seams. He took that as his cue to thrust even harder, and she arched her back. Her hips started to quiver in his grasp, and she let out a few high pitched squeals into the pillow under her head. When her insides squeezed him in deep waves he realized she was riding out her first orgasm of the day.

He slowed his pace and waited for her to come down before shifting his weigh. Justin laid down on her back, pushing her pelvis into the mattress. His legs moved to the outside of hers, pushing them together. He groaned at the sensation. Her insides -already soaking wet from her orgasm- tightened around him even more. He started to thrust again and Morgan lifted her head, taking in air through a pattern of quick deep breathes. Justin slid a hand up her torso, between her breasts, to her neck. His fingers pressed into her flesh, choking her lightly. It served two purposes for him: not only was it turn on, but it held her steady so he could penetrate deeper.

One of her small hands snaked around his forearm, gripping him tightly and digging her nails in. It was thrilling: feeling the pressure on her neck, the slight sense of danger in what he was doing. But, she also trusted him, and she knew he'd never do anything bad enough to actually harm her. Even if she did want to protest she couldn't have. His hips were still moving, swinging back and forth, and she was still too overwhelmed to do anything more than hang on to him.

Unbeknownst to her, Morgan's hips had started to move. She instinctively tilt them up in a rhythm that matched his, and he felt the difference automatically. His hand dropped away from her neck, and he lowered his head to her shoulder.

"Oh, yeah," he whispered roughly. "I love it when you fuck me back."

Morgan's blurry eyes opened, and she realized she was indeed moving with him. A sense of relief flooded over her. Finally, she was helping. And he loved it.

She still had it.

Time seemed to fly by as they laid there in bed, moving in sync with one another. Her mouth had made its way to his wrist, and she bit down to muffle her gasps. He had to admit it hurt a little, but then it wasn't every day that he got to bring out the inner animal in a beautiful woman. He was in no hurry to ruin the moment. But, he knew their time together was drawing to a close because her sounds changed. They were lower and raspier, dug up from a place deep inside. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard her soft voice.

“Ooh, I’m gonna--gonna--.”

Morgan’s body shuttered violently before she could completely get her words out. Justin thrust into her hard and fast as she fell over the edge again. He followed soon after, letting out a deep groan. She could feel him release inside her, his hips pressing deep and holding there until there was nothing left. When they were done, their bodies collapsed against the bed.

Justin kissed her shoulder and rolled himself off to the side. He laid on his back, staring up at the off-white ceiling. Neither of them moved for a few minutes, trying to catch their breath. When he looked finally looked over at Morgan she still had her face in the pillow. He chuckled, pleased with himself. 

When Morgan finally shifted her body and lifted her head to look at Justin as he was already watching her. She smiled coyly, searching for the right thing to say. He smiled back and pushed the damp hair from her face so he could kiss her forehead. When he leaned back Morgan scooted closer, resting her head on his shoulder and lazily toying with the dog tags around his neck.

They both smiled thinking the same thing: I could get use to this.

“Thank you, have a nice day.”

Morgan smiled as she pulled the receipt from the paper dispenser and handed it over to a middle-age woman in front of her.

It was coming close to the end of her work day. The store had been uneventful -to say the least- but it didn’t bother her because she'd spent most of her time restocking the sales floor and ducking into the backroom to text Justin from time to time. This was a radical change for her because she was used to reprimanding her coworkers who texted on their phones, not joining in with them. It put a little pep in her step knowing that she still attracted someone as handsome and mature as Justin - and with kid attached to her hip at that.

It was one thing being a single mother and date, but to be a single mother and date a decent man with a stable income, some common sense, and good hygiene seemed nearly impossible. With a little girl to raise she couldn’t settle for anyone less than spectacular. These days it was way too common to hear sad, heart-wrecking stories of woman dating a "good" man only to find out later on that the man had been lying, cheating, stealing, or God forbid molesting their child. But, she didn't have any of those issues with Justin. He seemed just as likely to kill anyone who hurt Chloe as Morgan did.

“Morgan, you ready to count down your drawer?”

The store manager was coming down the middle of the aisle, jiggling the store keys hooked to the side of her pants as she walked. Morgan smiled, giddy and ready to go. Justin was coming by her place in an hour, just before he started his shift for the night, so she could fix him a to-go plate for dinner. She figured he was getting tired of having fast food, and it was nice having someone to cook for other than Chloe.

Thirty minutes later Morgan was finally headed to her car. The weather was finally starting to cool a little - preparing for the Fall season- but it was still bright and warm even as sunset approached. She pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head as she dug down into her brown shoulder bag searching for her keys. She glanced up briefly to watch where she was going, and did a double take at her Jeep.

She stopped dead in her tracks as her orbs scanned the side of the vehicle, then she blinked a couple of times to make sure what she was seeing wasn’t some crazy hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation.

Once she came to the realization that what she was seeing wasn’t a figment of her imagination all she could manage to say was, "what the fuck?”

On the side of her car, in large white block letters, the words 'Mall Cop Slut' had been written in spray paint. Without a shadow of a doubt she knew exactly who it was from: that son of a bitch, Devon. She couldn’t believe he would stoop so low. Spray painting her car for the world to see? Really? But, then again, he was a self-centered, ungrateful, ignorant child so she couldn’t put it past him either. He always found some way to aggravate her just when she thought she was getting everything in her life back on track.

“Morgan, girl, who the hell did that to your car?”

She turned her head to the side to see one of her co-workers, Melissa, walking out to her car to go home as well.

"Great," she muttered.

This is exactly what she needed; someone at work to see it and start up some gossip. What if it got back to her boss? Bringing drama to work could possibly cause her to lose her job. Then how would she support Chloe?

“I don’t know who would do such a thing. Someone must have got the wrong car,” she lied.

Melissa chuckled.

"Wow. Well, looks like someone is really pissed at whoever they attempted to get. I'd hate to be that cop slut. Do you want me to go get Ms. Peggy?”

“No, I got it. I’ll just call a friend to see if they can pick me up and I’ll figure this one out tonight.”

“Okay girl. Sorry you had such bad luck. I’ll see ya later!"

Morgan offered a tight smile as Melissa waved before climbing into her Toyota and heading out of the parking lot. With Melissa gone Morgan was left to ponder what to do and who to call. How in the hell was she supposed to pick up Chloe with those words plastered on her car for the world to see? There was only one person she trusted to call: Justin.

He answered on the third ring, and it didn't take long for him to get to her. She watched as he paced around the car with his trademark stoic expression, looking through her windows. What exactly he was looking for she didn’t know.

Justin didn’t say much once he saw the writing on her car, but he did flash her an apologetic look after his initial glimpse of it. It was brief, but it was there, so she knew it bothered him too.

“You should report this to the police.”

Morgan shook her head as she chewed on one of her chipped purple fingernails. She didn’t want to bother with the police right now - if at all.

“Right now all I want to do is get Chloe, go home, and figure out how I'm going to pay to have this car repainted.”

“Yes. Right after you call the police and report the vandalism. “

Morgan sighed.

"I just need to get Chloe from school. Right now.”

She turned on her heel and headed over to Justin’s car. She didn’t want to deal with the police and she didn’t want to deal with Devon. Justin was right when he said that Devon deserved to be reported to the police, but she didn’t want to be standing in the parking lot giving a report for everyone to see. That kind of attention was always negative, especially when it happens near the workplace. The whole thing was a giant hassle. It was a headache that she didn’t have the time or the money for.

On second thought, she would probably be able to handle the headache better than the feeling of Justin's eyes burning into the side of her face as he opened the car door for her. Shortly after he climbed into the driver seat and pulled out of the shopping area. This was the first time Morgan had ever been on the inside of Justin's car, and she had to admit it was nice. Clean and sharp. A lot like him.

The car slowed to a stop at a red light. Justin held the steering with one hand, his other resting on the armrest. He impatiently tapped his thumb on the leather twice.

"Why won’t you make him own up to his harassment?”

Morgan turned from the window, meeting Justin’s gaze as he stared back. She was beginning to understand some of his facial expressions and what they meant. This one was his 'I need answers before you piss me off' face.

“I just don’t have time to invest in playing tic-for-tac with him.”

“Nor do you have the time or money to cover up his kid antics,” he mocked.

She chuckled, and he shot her a look before changing lanes. Morgan pushed a few curls from her face with a sigh and turned back to the window.

"Look, Justin, I appreciate you picking me up, but I really don’t want to talk about this right now. It's been a long day; I'll deal with this later. As of right now, I'm just trying to wrap my head around how I'm going to get to work tomorrow.”

“I’ll take you. “

"I have a split shit tomorrow, and you have that gun qualification thing."

“So, take my car.”

“That range is an hour away. How are you going to get there? You've been going on and on about it for a week, I'm not going to let you miss it.”

“I’ll get there.”

"How?"

"I'll get there."

His tone cut the dispute short.

"So, you going to file a report?”

“No," she snapped.

“Why?”

“Because."

“Because what?”

“I don’t have time for it.”

“You don’t have time for it? That’s a great reason,” he scoffed.

“Just drop it, please. I have a headache.”

“Because of him,” he muttered.

“No, because of this conversation.”

Morgan rolled her neck and ran a hand over her shoulder. She could feel the tension headache beginning to grow. He was adding to her stress - which was the opposite of what he usually did.

“Look Morgan, he is going to keep bothering until you stop backing away with your tail between your legs all because you don’t have the energy.”

Morgan huffed. She knew that. She already knew everything he was saying, and didn’t need him to give a lecture right now. If he really needed something to do with his mouth she could think of a few other options that were much more useful and exciting than arguing.

Before she could respond Justin swung into a parking spot in front of Chloe's school. Morgan threw open the door, trying to escape the conversation. To her disappointment Justin climbed out of the car as well and started to follow behind her.

"We'll finish this conversation later, but I want to come with you.”

She nodded as he moved to her side, and they walked up the steps into the school.

It didn’t take it long for them to walk back out with Chloe, walking hand-in-hand with Justin, talking a million miles an hour. Morgan walked in front of them, carrying her daughter's backpack filled with arts and crafts projects that she'd made during daycare.

She was so grateful that she had Chloe had distracted Justin from their previous conversation. She needed a minute to think without Sergeant Knows-It-All in her ear. Justin quickly moved to open their car doors as they climbed inside. Morgan turned her head to remind Chloe to buckle up, but Justin was already at it, making sure she was secure. She couldn’t help but smile even though she was just as frustrated with him as he probably was with her.

After they were all settled Chloe continued on with her one-sided conversation while Justin drove. Morgan met his eyes when they paused at a stop sign, and he gave her a look that showed their conversation wasn’t over by a long shot. She sank back into her seat and stared out the window - only chiming into the conversation when Chloe addressed her directly.

Morgan couldn’t make sense of Devon, she really couldn’t. She thought his little run-in with Justin would have been enough for him to leave her alone, but apparently all it did was give him something new to gripe about. In a perfect world he would disappear. She always prayed that he would do something ridiculously stupid and get locked up for a long time. Then they could have some peace and stability.

Twenty minutes later the tires rolled over the speed bumps of the back parking lot and Morgan realized her quiet time was coming to an end. She was still trying to figure out a way to delay their conversation. Thankfully, Chloe kept the distraction going as soon as she opened her door.

"Mommy, can I have a snack when I get inside?” She was standing hand-in-hand with Justin on the sidewalk.

Morgan shook her head, lifting her purse onto her shoulder.

"Didn’t you have a snack at daycare?”

“You forgot to put one in my backpack."

They had been running a little late that morning because Morgan overslept. She'd been up late talking to Justin, of course. He'd been telling her about his job in the Marine Corps, and the different positions he'd held before becoming a Staff Sergeant. She briefly remembered her phone beeping and flashing red, indicating that the battery was low before her eyes closed from heaviness.

“Okay, but right after you get started on your homework.”

Morgan reached out and fixed the bow in the back of Chloe's hair; anything to avoid Justin's gaze. It was time for him to lay off because his stares were starting to aggravate her.

Once she retrieved their things from the car Morgan dragging along behind them, watching as they interacted with each other. It brought a smile to her face at how Chloe was so comfortable with Justin. He didn’t intimidate her the way he did Morgan. Chloe was completely smitten with him, and it seemed that Justin was equally taken with her - though Chloe was more open about it.

The innocence of a child.

Morgan shuffled behind them, simultaneously digging into her purse to retrieve her keys. Her hand wrapped around the cold metal, and she looked up just in time to see Justin stop short in front of her causing her to collide with his back.

"Justin, I’m walking here,” she joked, moving to the side.

His arm shot out, blocking her forward motion and she frowned. His eyes remained forward when she looked up at his face and she followed them to her cracked front door.

Why was her door opened?

“Did you lock the door before you left this morning?” Justin asked.

His voice was different. He wasn't Chloe's playful Justin or her libidinous Justin, this was marine Justin and he meant business.

“Yeah," she spoke softly.

Justin looked at her, and she nodded as she took Chloe's hand from his.

"You may want to take Chloe to your grandma's place to get a snack.”

Morgan agreed, but Chloe groaned loudly.

"Mommy! I want to stay with you and Mr. Justttiin!” She whined.

“You'll just be with Grandma Sara for a little bit. She hasn’t seen you all week. Maybe you can ask her to cook you some of her famous peanut butter cookies.”

Morgan was trying her best to sound excited about the idea, but Chloe wasn’t having it. Her boney shoulders slumped.

Justin interjected for her.

"It will only be for a few minutes. Then we can eat dinner, and maybe we can all go for some ice cream after.”

“Really?! Can we mommy?” Chloe jumped up and down in excitement.

“Yes. But, only if you promise to eat all your dinner tonight, and get to bed with no fuss.”

Chloe quickly agreed.

”Alright, let’s go.”

Morgan pulled Chloe down the walkway, the little girl starting to ramble on about what flavors ice cream she was going to get. Morgan glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see Justin pull a small handgun from the waistband at the back of his black cargo pants.

Her jaw dropped.

She hadn't even known he had it!

He kicked the door open with a tap of his foot and peered in before stepping inside.

It didn’t take long for Morgan return to her front porch sans Chloe. Justin was waiting on her, posted up against the wall with one boot on the stucco.

"Someone paid you a little visit," he said.

Morgan frowned. It didn't take a genius to figure out who he was referring too. She pushed past him, walking into the living room. The area was completely trashed. Everything that had been neatly put in its place before she'd left that morning was now scattered over the floor.

As they moved further into the apartment her stomach began to turn. She looked into Chloe’s room, finding it untouched. But her own bedroom looked like a tornado had ripped through it. Nothing had been left untouched. Morgan sighed deeply as she pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation.

“This is not my day," she whispered. "This is so not my day."

She heard Justin move behind her as his boots crunched on broken glass in the carpet.

"I've got to get this cleaned up before I bring Chloe back."

She heard a scoff, and looked up into stern blue eyes.

“You got to be kidding me right?” He questioned.

“What?”

“You cannot clean this up right now! You need to call the police and file a report.”

Morgan pushed past him, walking back into the living room.

"I can’t do that. It’s not worth it.”

"What do you mean it’s not worth it?" Justin was hot on her heels. "Morgan, he just tagged your car, and now he's violated your personal space. That is a not only a violation of your privacy, but trespassing, stalking, and breaking and entering.”

Morgan began to pick up toys and laundry from the floor, but Justin pulled them from her grasp and dropped them back on the carpet. She was contaminating the crime scene. She could tell he was growing more and more frustrated with her by his forcefulness as he pulled her way.

“I don’t want Devon to think that anything he does stops the show in my house. He isn't out to get me, he wants the attention and I’m not going to give him any.”

Morgan shook herself from his hold and went into the kitchen to start getting things ready for dinner. She heard the front door slam shut and heavy boots stalk through the dining room.

“Cut the shit Morgan," Justin said roughly. "This man came into your home! This is the place where you are supposed to feel safe and he totally fuck that up.”

Morgan waved him off, trying to busy herself by pulling ingredients out of the fridge.

"I’m over this, Justin! I’ll think about this later, right now I need to get dinner ready."

“No! You can’t seriously be thinking about staying here tonight. It’s not happening.”

Morgan pulled a pan from the cabinet and slammed the door shut.

"Where would you like me to go, Justin?! I can’t go to my grandma's house because you know she's a lightweight hoarder and there's no room."

"Light weight hoarder," he mocked. "A hoarder is a hoarder is a hoarder."

Morgan ignored him.

"I’m not going to Char's because I have enough drama in my life, I don't need to sit and watch someone else’s. I don’t have the money for a hotel room - not to mention to car repair I still have to figure out. So, no, Justin, all I need to do is clean this house and go on about my business. I am not giving Devon the satisfaction of thinking he even slightly hurt me. So you drop the shit! This is my problem, not yours.”

There was silence for a long while. Morgan wondered if she'd finally pushed him as far as he would go. Then Justin started to chuckle in disbelief, causing Morgan to eye him strangely.

“You are a piece of work Morgan.”

She cocked her eyebrow.

"Excuse me?”

“I know you are a great mother...”

Her eyelids lowered suspiciously.

“...But you are also selfish as hell.”

Whoa.

“Come again?" She questioned.

Justin folded his arms over his chest.

"That whole little rant doesn’t mean shit. Not once did you even mention Chloe.”

She cringed.

“It's one thing if you don't care about your safety - which you obviously don't - but I would've at least expected you to be concerned about Chloe’s. If you don’t recall there was a little scene right outside not too long ago where he put his hands on you. Here, let me jog your memory: he picked you up and fucking threw you across the lawn in front of your child. The same child that he's oh-so-eager to spend time alone with. Now, if that's not an indicator of what this fucker is capable of I don't know what will. But you keep brushing it off and brushing it off, as if shutting your eyes and tuning it out will make him disappear. Guess what Morgan: it’s not going to happen!”

Morgan swallowed the lump that had begun to form in her throat, and the pan in her hand started to shake.

“Even if you try your best to ignore him I assume he knows you a little better than you're giving him credit for; seeing as you two were together for a while. He knows this shit is secretly driving you crazy, and he also knows you clearly have a problem with your pride. But this isn’t about just you, Morgan, it’s about Chloe too. You've got to keep her safe.”

Morgan let out a shaky sigh as tears began to form in her eyes.

"I know."

She dropped her head as tears streamed from her eyes. When she lifted her head again her eyeliner had smeared around her lashes, and her pouty lips were frowning full force.

"I’ve tried to keep the peace. I really have! I’ve tried to reason with him because I wanted to keep him in her life. He and I both grew up without our fathers, and I didn’t want that for her. Even if we weren’t together I was hell-bent on keeping him in hers. I guess somewhere down the line he just stopped giving a fuck. Or, maybe he never did.”

Silence fell again, accompanied with Morgan’s sniffle. Justin reached out, wanting to consol her. He hated to see her so sad - especially over some useless douche bag. Morgan stepped into his side, and he wrapped his arms around her fragile body as she buried her face into his chest; clinching the sides of his black cotton t-shirt.

“Even though he doesn’t care, I care," he said quietly. "You can come stay at my place for the night. I've got plenty of room.”

Morgan simply nodded and hugged him tighter.

“I told you I would protect you. I meant that."

***

Justin unlocked the front door, kicking it open with his steel-toe boot before stepping into the darkness. His hands were filled with plastic bags from the grocery store, so he had to navigate his way to the kitchen counter before he could turn on a light. Morgan and Chloe were hovering in the hall behind him, Morgan holding the rest of the bags and Chloe clutching a pink bag stuffed with pajamas, DVDs, and toys.

"How can you see where you're going?"

Justin turned to look back at her, one of his eyebrows raising sharply. He knew she wore glasses when no one was looking, but her vision couldn't have been that bad, could it? There was light flooding in from the hallway - not the same as having the afternoon sun outside your window- but it was enough to guide you to a light switch.

"You're blind, aren't you?"

Morgan narrowed her eyes in the general direction of his voice.

"You're mean."

She heard him chuckle, and then a light flicked on illuminating the apartment.

"Come on in," he said.

Morgan looked around at the sparsely decorated walls and oversized sofa setup in front of a needlessly large TV.

"Clean. Minimal. Exactly what I'd expect from you."

"I'm not sure if that's good or bad."

"Neither," she said. "Just fitting."

Morgan moved to the small kitchen on the left, setting the bags down on the gray marble counter. After packing two small bags with clothes and necessities for the night she'd insisted they stop by the store once Justin admitted that he was out of basically everything except Gatorade and cheetos. He had offered his car and his home to them, and called in sick for the evening to stay with them. The least she could do was cook him the dinner she'd promised.

"It's getting late," she said. "Chloe, start homework while I cook dinner. You can sit right here at the dining table so I can supervise."

"I can help her," Justin offered.

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! I want Mr. Justin to help me, Mommy."

"No, we already ruined your night-."

"Don't worry about it. I'll take a home cooked meal at home over microwaved leftovers with Dale any night. Let me help her."

"Please Mommy? We won't play around."

"Yeah, we won't play around." Justin nodded in agreement with Chloe, then wiggled his eyebrows at Morgan.

"Well," Morgan finally replied. "If Justin wants to help you that's fine with me."

"Yes!" Chloe exclaimed, flinging her backpack onto the table.

Justin wiggled his eyebrows again.

"I guess we know who her favorite is."

Morgan rolled her eyes. As if Justin had a chance of even coming close to her level.

"Uh-huh. Enjoy it now, because I get her back after dinner."

***

Morgan was leaning back against the arm rest of the sofa. Chloe and Justin had done her homework, then entertained themselves with games while Morgan cooked. For the first time in years Justin had sat down and eaten at his own dinner table. Afterwards they'd all changed into their pajamas for a bedtime movie.

On the screen Dory and Marlin were navigating through a jellyfish garden, and Justin's carpet was covered with scattered pictures scribbled from crayons and random Barbie accessories. Morgan's eyes were narrowed into tiny slits as she stared at Justin, her jaw set in stone. He was trying his hardest to ignore her and not burst out laughing.

Chloe was tucked under his arm, drooling onto the fabric over his stomach. She'd been adamant about not feeling sleepy, but half an hour into Finding Nemo she'd started snoring.

"What?" Justin asked finally, a chuckle escaping through his lips.

He couldn't take her stare boring into his cheek anymore.

"Nothing," she snipped. "Just noticing how you're all cozy over there, cuddled up with my daughter. I'm always the one to cuddle her to sleep."

Justin shrugged dismissively.

"I can't help it if she knows where the comfy places are."

Morgan huffed, crossing her arms, and he laughed again.

"You'll have her all night," he said. "You and Chloe can take my room, I'll crash on the couch. Do you want me to carry her in for you?"

Morgan shook her head.

"You don't have to do that," she said. "She'll be okay out here."

Justin's brow furrowed.

"I love my baby with all my heart, but she kicks the shit out of me in her sleep," Morgan explained. "She doesn't need that much space, and this thing is practically the size of an extra long twin anyway."

"Hey! Don't hate on my sofa. After a long day a man needs to be able to come home and relax in a comfortable environment."

"Right, by texting me during kill cams while you sit on your butt playing Call of Duty and eating Top Ramen with linguisa."

This time it was Justin's turn to narrow his eyes. Clearly she knew entirely too much about his personal life.

"First of all, gourmet Top Ramen is a culinary delight. I have a unit full of guys that will back me up on that," he said. "And second, maybe you should stay out here with Chloe."

Morgan simply smiled. He had an impressive poker face, but considering the way his sex drive was, she doubted he'd really let her sleep in the living room while he occupied a cold bed all by himself.

"Are you tired?" He asked.

"Yeah," she replied honestly. "It's been a hell of a day."

"You got that right."

His mind reeled back over the day's events. He'd started off preparing for another boring shift, only to get a phone call from Morgan that ended in a night off, Disney movies, and a little girl sleeping in his lap. Talk about a turn of events.

Justin sat up, slowly easing Chloe down onto the fabric. She grunted and squirmed a little, but eventually she settled down and curled up into a tiny ball among the pillows. He stood over her, his usually stone expression softening.

"Are you sure she'll be okay?"

"She'll be fine," Morgan assured. "Believe me, she knows how to call me when she needs me."

After turning off the TV and leaving on a soft night light Morgan took Justin's hand, pulling him away from Chloe and toward the open door to his bedroom. He took one last look at the sleeping girl. Morgan had been right about the size of the sofa. Chloe was lost between the pillows and plush blanket.

Turning his vision forward, he found Morgan's frame in the dark as she sashayed toward his room. Her long curls swung gently with each step, and she glanced back over her shoulder with a soft grin. He felt himself grin back before he could help it. His hand was warm where her fingers wrapped around his, and the sensation travelled up his arm and into his chest.

Reaching around her, he flicked the switch by the door, filling the bedroom with light. When she stepped inside he closed the door behind them, but was careful not to lock it. An air of awkwardness started to settle in as he moved to his usual side of the bed. Morgan, following his lead, moved to the other. They both realized in that moment it had been a long time since they'd slept next to someone - and had never slept with each other.

Morgan watched as he stood on his side of the bed and pulled his shirt over his head before starting to undo the knot in his pajama pants. She ran a nervous hand through her hair.

"What's wrong?"

She shrugged.

"You'll think it's silly."

"Probably."

She ignored him.

"I've never undressed in front of you before."

He looked up through his eyelashes.

"You know we've had sex, right?"

"That was different."

Justin snorted, dropping his pants and shamelessly revealing a pair of green and blue stripped boxer briefs. Morgan's eyes landed on the thin patch of hair just above the waist band that lead up to a pack of lightly toned, perfectly tanned abs.

"How?"

"It was dark, and you were distracted."

"So? I still saw you."

"No, you didn't."

Justin paused, mid-reach to pull back the covers.

"I saw you," he repeated. "I always see you."

A moment of silence passed. Morgan didn't budge and he didn't bother trying to hide the roll of his eyes. Then he turned and moved over to the light switch, flicking it off.

"Better?" He asked.

"Much."

"I can still see you, little girl," he said, walking to his side of the bed.

She heard him pull back the covers and climb in, sighing when he relaxed against the sheets. Morgan tried to shake off her nerves, shimmying out of her pajama bottoms. They dropped to the floor and she climbed in bed beside him, pulling up the blankets.

All was quiet and still for a moment, each wondering what would come next. As much time as they'd spent talking and texting, they hadn't spent as much time together face-to-face.

Almost simultaneously they both rolled onto their sides to face each other. Morgan tucked a hand under her head as she tried to find his features in the dark.

"Look at you," he said. "You really are blind."

"How would you know? It's pitch black in here. You can't see either."

"Yes, I can," he insisted. "I told you, I see you perfectly."

He reached out with a slender finger and tapped the tip of her nose.

"Nose.... Eyebrow.... Cheekbone...."

His finger followed his whispers, tracing the lines of her face. They paused on her bottom lip, then his hand fell away, landing next to hers on the pillow. He found a few loose strands of her curly hair and started to twirl them absentmindedly.

"Thank you for helping me today," she said quietly.

"You don't have to thank me."

"I do. You don't have to be as nice as you are."

"I'll make you pay for it later."

A smile passed over her face.

"I'm sure you will."

He snorted.

"Never heard you tell me to stop."

Morgan didn't reply. It was true, she'd never tried to stop his sexual advances - and she probably never would. Everything about him was intoxicating - his lips, his arms, his hips, the muscles that wrapped around his lower back and ran down to his butt. And beyond the sex there was his smile, his eyes, his secret playfulness, the underlying protective instinct in his nature.

Just thinking about him brought a smile to her face; counting down the seconds until she saw him always made her pulse quicken. She felt like a teenager - a love struck girl who was navigating her first summer romance with a boy.

But, she had no idea how he felt about her. Justin was never open with his feelings. He was sure to let her know how much he hated PT, how bad MREs sucked, and how he wished Dale would join his unit just for 24 hours; but the topic of their relationship was never much of a discussion. However, it was obvious that he liked her, right? She was there, after all.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes," he answered automatically.

He didn't have to think about it. She could ask him anything.

"But, you have to be honest."

"Oh, God."

"Stop it," she hissed.

He kept quiet, but she saw his toothy grin in the dark.

"What do you think of me?"

He paused before asking, "what do you mean?"

"When you think of me, what comes to mind? What do you think about how I look, my personality, my... complicated life. What do you think of me?"

Justin turned, looking up at the shadows stretched across the ceiling. He took his time, carefully choosing his words. Morgan's heart started to beat triple time. Did he really have to think that hard about it? Maybe he didn't like her as much as she'd thought after all.

"Well, I think you're gorgeous," he answered finally. "You're smart, funny, and an amazing mother. You're also kind, and very sweet."

Morgan turned to look at the ceiling, struggling to hide the rapidly growing smile on her face.

"Sweet? I don't think anyone's called me sweet since the second grade."

"You're sweet," he repeated. "In fact I think you're just about the sweetest thing I've ever seen."

Morgan turned back to him, letting his words soak in. Devon never talked to her like that - never complimented her in any meaningful way. It felt good to finally hear something nice from someone.

Justin -in general- was going above and beyond. Helping with the car, letting them stay the night. Then he'd been so good with Chloe: playing with her before dinner and cuddling her until she fell asleep. Now, here he was, whispering sweet words to her in the dark while his fingers lazily twirled her hair.

He was perfect.

She put a hand on his cheek, wishing more than anything she could see the flakes of hazel in his blue eyes.

"Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?"

"Ehh, for the most part I suppose," he shrugged.

"Why do you think we met?"

It was another question he had to think about. She sure was philosophical for a single mom barely making above minimum wage. He'd seen her up late some nights with her bedroom light on. Now he knew what had been keeping her awake.

"You needed help," he answered finally. "You need someone to help you, and I can."

"It's that simple?"

He nodded.

"Most things in life are simple. It's people that make shit complicated - especially you women."

Morgan glared.

"I'm kidding! I can feel your laser eyes giving me the death stare."

"Good. Feel it. Feel my annoyance."

He let out a low snort.

"Oh, you got something I wanna feel alright."

Morgan laughed, opening her mouth to give him a flirty, witty reply but his hand touched her cheek, sliding back into her hair.

What he'd said had been a joke, but there was nothing funny about the way he was looking at her now. In the dark she could only make out elements of his face: the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the slight hollow under his cheekbone. Years of crawling in the dirt and training in the sun had created faint lines across his forehead and light bags under his eyes. But even in the dark he was as handsome as ever. He trailed a rough, callused finger down her cheek. A hypnotizing cologne of sweat, wood chips, and body wash wafted in the air around her.

He leaned down, slowly pressing his lips to hers. At first his touch was feather light. His kiss was barely a peck, and his hand moved to rest lightly on her hip. He kissed her sweetly; innocently. His fingers grazed the fabric of her underwear, ever so slightly picking at the elastic band, and he tried to be as slow and delicate as he could.

With each kiss his desire grew deeper, and he struggled to keep his composure. He wanted her in the worst way. His hands were aching to hold her, his mouth dying to taste the rest of her. She had looked so good prancing around his kitchen with her hair up in a bun and sauce smeared on her cheek. Now she was captive in his bed, wearing just her panties and a tank top.

But, Chloe was in the other room, and today had been eventful - to say the least. He didn't want to push her too far or overstep any boundaries, yet he wanted to be close to her. He needed to be close to her.

Morgan reached out, her hesitant fingers landing lightly on his chest. It was warm and firm under her touch. Slowly she let her fingers glide over him, first toying with the cold metal tags around his neck, then tiptoeing down his abdomen. He quivered under her touch.

The hand that had been resting on her hip disappeared. Instead, it smoothed up her back until his arm was wrapped around her. Then, he yanked, sliding her across the sheets and flush against his body. He held her close, his kiss growing deeper as he leaned into her. Morgan tried to keep her gasp of surprise to herself. Even when he was gentle he was rough.

He kissed her with his own special rhythm - a skill all his own that he'd perfected over the years. It was an intoxicating cycle of lips and soft touches that left her spellbound and enchanted as his tongue dipped into her mouth to tangle with hers before withdrawing again. He moved to her neck, finding the sensitive spot below her ear. He used his tongue with expertise, sparking sensations that pulsed up and down her body. He shifted his weight, pressing her deeper in the bed, and her nails scratched down his back.

"Justin," she purred his name.

She felt him twitch under her touch, a low deep growl rumbling in his chest. His eyes closed, and he took a second to regain his composure before looking her in the eye.

"Are you sure?"

They were dangerously close to the point of no return. He knew exactly what she wanted, because he wanted it too. Every bit of reserve he had was slipping. Sleeping Chloe was become a more and more distant thought. All he could think of was Morgan half-naked underneath him; her smell, her skin, her noises.
Morgan nodded yes.

"You have to be quiet," he cautioned.

"Don't make me be loud."

Rather than respond with words he leaned in for another kiss. He began toying with the hem of her tank top, and obvious sign that he wanted it off. Morgan pulled the fabric over her head, and he began a slow kiss down her body. He kissed her shoulder, the side of her breast, her stomach, her hip. He'd never been so tender with her before. She felt treasured and appreciated.

When he got to her underwear he didn't bother checking for permission again before gripping the sides and pulling them down to her knees so she could kick them off.

He shuffled around under the blankets, ridding himself of his boxers before he moved on top of her, settling between her legs. His sides were cold and smooth against her inner thighs. Even though he rested some of his weight on his elbows he was still solid and heavy. His lips found hers again, their tongues dueling back and forth as their hips ground to a similar beat. She could feel him firm against her, tauntingly close to her entrance. Her pulse was racing, juices flowing. She was impatiently awaiting his next move, still too nervous with him to make one of her own.

Finally his hand slide between them, moving past her stomach, to her pelvis. She felt something soft and sturdy move past her lower lips. It was gliding up and down her slit, silently searching. Then suddenly, without warning, she was being stretched open. Her head flung back against the pillow, a moan frozen in her throat. He got a rise out of watching the surprise in her face, the honest reaction to that initial influx of pleasure. He watched with satisfaction as her back arched; the angle growing more dramatic the deeper he went.

"Slow," he whispered. "I'll go slow."

Morgan heard him, but as usual, replying was easier said than done. She wanted to tell him that it really didn't matter how fast or slow he went. In many ways slower was worse. Now she had the time to feel every hot, pulsating inch of him as he thrust in and out. He filled her completely, then took his time withdrawing, only to do it again and again. Her nails dug deep into his back, her teeth biting down on his shoulder.

Her orgasm came like a Mac truck out of nowhere - hitting quickly and mercilessly. Deep waves rolled over her, generating in her hips, vibrating down her legs and up her arms, and finally radiating out her fingers and toes. Justin could feel her thighs begin to flex and tremble, and he pulled back to look at her face. Her chocolate eyes were half closed and slowly rolling back into her head.

She didn't know that he was barely keeping his resolve by the skin of his teeth. Her insides were squeezing and contracting, and growing wetter by the second.

Desperate to distract himself he thought about his rifle while he waited for her to come down from her high. He imagined counting the number of rounds in his magazine, and envisioned cleaning the barrel in the barracks in Europe. When her limbs fell like dead weights against the mattress he looked at her again.

Her mocha skin contrasted with the stark white sheets, and she wore the sweetest little sideways smile as she watched him in the dark. He had to bite back his own moan when he started to move again. She pulled her legs up, wrapping them about his waist and interlocking her ankles. Justin lowered his head, his forehead resting on her.

"You don't want to let me go?" He breathed.

Morgan shook her head and held onto him tighter, her legs locked about his waist and her fingers splayed across his shoulder blades. She felt the muscles in his back stretch and coil with every thrust. There was a low growl in her ear as his impending orgasm grew. His breathing was labored and erratic, his skin slick with sweat. She knew it'd finally hit when his pace slowed, opting for depth over friction. For the first time, she could focus on his orgasm. The other times she'd been too far gone with her head in the clouds.

She could feel him jerking and throbbing inside her with each spurt. He was trembling beneath her fingers, completely lost in his own haze. He stayed cradled against her, riding out each intimate wave until he relaxed - totally spent. His head dropped to her shoulder, his breath warming her neck. Her short nails started a lazy pattern on his back.

Seconds passed, then minutes, and he stayed that way.

To Morgan it felt like an hour before he moved. Truthfully his weight had started to smother her, and she hadn't had a full breath of air in awhile. But, she liked holding him. She hadn't cuddled with anyone like this in a long time.

He rolled over, falling onto his back beside her. She looked up as he raised an arm, inviting her to curl up at his side. They both sighed with content when her head landed on his chest. Their bodies molded together -arms encircling torsos and legs intertwined- and they slept that way for most of the night.

***

Justin threw himself down on the ground in the doorway, jamming his shoulder into the wall. Luckily it was made from mud and sticks rather than brick and mortar, but it still hurt like a motherfucker. Flashing lights lit up the hall as the insurgents barricaded in the bedroom fired through the wooden door. SSgt Willings' men were assembling themselves in the living room; moving the hostages away from the firing, and radioing to command for backup and instructions. They couldn't return fire to assist Justin's pinned down unit because they'd be completely vulnerable and exposed to the enemy. It was up to SSgt. Timberlake to diffuse the situation.

 

Laying on his belly Justin slithered to the doorway, poking his head out just enough to see the target. There was a large hole blown into the door from the flying bullets. He could make out three men, one firing a small caliber handgun and the other two manning a military issued M249. They had to have commandeered that from a downed vehicle, or illegal arms market.

Assholes.

He slithered back into the safety of the room and turned to the seven pairs of eyes looking to him for guidance.

"Wilson! Billingsley!" He called.

The two best friends came to him immediately, each dropping to a knee in front of him; their rifles were ready, fingers on the triggers.

"Sir?"

Justin raised a hand, patting Billingsley on the shoulder.

"Light 'em up," he told him.

Cpl. Billingsley and LCpl. Wilson nodded, dumping their rifles and reaching into the pockets of their vests. Justin moved further into the room with the other men. He looked down, checking the rounds in his magazine as Wilson pulled the pin on the first of three hand grenades.

"Fire in the hole!!"

The grenade sailed through the air, down the hall towards the offending door. Seconds later a defining boom shook the building, piercing their ears and raining dust from the ceiling on their heads. Justin threw up an arm, shielding himself from the rocks and debris.

"Marines!" He yelled into the sudden moment of silence. "Get some!!"

A hand flew up, slapping Morgan across the face and jarring her from her sleep. She shot upright in bed, blinking with surprise as her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. Her cheek was on fire, hot and tingling as her eyes watered. What the hell had just happened?

"Oh, God."

She looked to her left and Justin was sitting up as well. His bare chest rose and fell with heavy labored breaths. The lights shining in from the streetlamps reflected off the sweat on his forehead and the metal around his neck. His eyes were wide and glossy as he watched her. He looked utterly bewildered.

"Morgan, I'm so sorry."

"W-w-what?"

"I'm so sorry," he repeated.

"It's okay," she heard herself while getting up from the bed.

She hadn't even thought about it before saying it. All those years with Devon, after while apologizing just became automatic.

"No, it's not," he muttered, angrily throwing back the blankets and climbing to his feet as well.

"Fuck!"

"Shh!" Morgan chastised.

She went to the mirror above his dresser and leaned in close to examine her face. While it hurt she didn't look too much worse for the wear. Justin let out another curse and started to pace the floor on his side of the room, roughly running a frustrated hand over his face. Morgan cracked the bedroom door, making sure Chloe was still sleeping before closing it again. Then she moved toward Justin, stopping a foot or two away.

"It's alright," she said again, trying to reassure him.

"Let me see."

Justin didn't wait. His hands reached out, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her closer. He gripped her chin, tilting her face up. She watched at his eyes wildly searched her face, growing more and more disappointed with himself as he picked up the faintest red hue under her eye.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated. "I was just..."

Justin's voice trailed off, leaving them to stand in silence. His soft thumb smoothed back and forth over her cheek, wanting to soothe the ache away.

"You were just what?" Morgan inquired gently.

Her heart was beating quickly, fueled by the adrenaline of pain and confusion. Justin felt her tremble under his touch and he sat down on the bed to drop his head into his hands. He'd hit plenty of people in his time, but never a woman he cared for. He felt horrible. Despicable. He'd never wanted to hurt Morgan. It broke his heart that he had; and it would kill him if she was afraid of him. He saw the fear hiding behind her penetrating eyes when Devon came around and he never wanted her to look at him like that.

Morgan was hesitant as she sat down on the bed, leaving a space between them. He was silent and unmoving as the mattress shifted under her weight. At first she didn't know what to say or what to do. He was visibly upset, and she didn't know whether that called for space or coddling. Maybe staying with him tonight had been a bad idea.

"Justin-."

He interrupted her, turning toward her as his eyes plead for understanding.

"Morgan, I would never hurt you. You know that, right? I would never hurt you or Chloe."

"Of course," she breathed, scooting closer. "Justin, of course I know that. It was an accident. I think you were having a nightmare."

"Yeah."

"What was it about?"

Justin was quiet for awhile. His shoulders slumped and his eyes diverted to the floor as his fingers picked at the old comforter on the bed. Part of him wanted to tell her; to open up about the things he saw in his dreams, the flashbacks he got while patrolling the grounds alone at night. But, what if she didn't understand? What if thought he was crazy? What if she left him?

Morgan reached up with one hand, stroking a finger down his cheek.

"Justin, what were you dreaming? You can tell me."

He looked up at her, letting out a sigh so deep he must have been holding it for years. Then he leaned forward, resting his torso against hers. His head went to her shoulder, his nose burrowing in the curve of her neck. His arms encircled her waist, long fingers pressing into her back.

He couldn't tell her. Not yet.

Morgan's arms wrapped around him instinctively. She could feel him; feel his sadness, his worry, his internal struggle with what to confess and what to keep secret. She cradled him, gently rocking from side to side the way she would with her daughter when she had bad dreams in the middle of the night. Her fingers started to toy with the short brown hairs of his buzz cut, running down his neck to the thick, tense muscles in his back.

Morgan realized for the first time that she wasn't the only one in need. This marine needed help too.

***

Justin groaned as his body came back to consciousness. His eyes weren't open, but he could feel the sun's muted rays on his forearm as it lay strewn across the pillows. The TV in the living room was on, broadcasting SpongeBob's obnoxious laugh. Justin opened his eyes, squinting at the light. It was definitely morning. The sun was high over the apartment complex.

He looked to his right, finding an empty rumpled space where Morgan had been. She wasn't there now, which would explain why the smell of cinnamon and bacon was teasing his nose.

After climbing out of bed he rolled his shoulders, unknotting the muscles in his neck. Then he shrugged a discarded t-shirt over his head and strolled into the living room. Little Chloe was still in her nightgown, laying on the floor watching Patrick and SpongeBob embark on their latest adventure.

"Hi Mr. Justin," she smiled.

"Hi Chloe. How did you sleep?"

Too engrossed in her show, Chloe turned back to the TV as if Justin hadn't said a thing. Justin chuckled to himself. Normally that question would have ignited one of her twenty minute monologues, but this morning she wasn't nearly as interested in him.

Turning his attention to her mother, Justin stepped into the kitchen; standing behind Morgan as she flipped French toast on the stove.

"Morning," she heard him grumble.

His lips pressed a kiss against her temple. She turned to smile at him, and he frowned. He wasn't looking at her; his sight was focused on the light bruising on her cheekbone. He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a hand.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm fine, and if you apologize to me again I'll scream."

That brought a temporary smile to his face, then he looked down at the stove.

"Did we buy bacon last night?"

"No, I found this in the freezer."

His brow furrowed.

"Did you check the expiration date? I haven't bought bacon since the first time I deployed to Bahrain."

Morgan paused in her word, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"2007," he clarified.

"Well, it's definitely not that old so you must have bought some on one of your P&R's or something."

"You mean R&R's?"

"Same thing," she shrugged.

"Not really," he sounded, swiping two pieces of bacon from the plate and stuffing them into his mouth. "Must have been my Dad."

"Papa Marine?"

"Don't ever let him hear you say that. He'll enjoy it too much, and I'll never hear the end of it."

Morgan laughed, slapping his hand away when he reached for another piece.

"You'll spoil your breakfast."

Justin rolled his eyes, reaching for another piece anyway.

"Doubt it."

When she reached out to slap his left hand away again he struck with his right, effectively reaching around her back and grabbing it with a different hand.

"Justin! No!"

"Too late. Got it!" He smiled, a chunk of mashed up meat between his teeth.

"Gross."

He did a double take, his mouth frowning with distaste.

"Bacon is never gross."

Morgan rolled her eyes and went back to her French toast. Even when he was wrong he was still right. Were all Marines this way?

"No work today?" He asked.

It was after 9am. Chloe should have been at school, and Morgan should have been long gone at work.

"No, we're taking a mental health day to handle all of this D-E-V-O-N car business. Monday morning we'll start fresh and rejuvenated."

While she spoke Justin had wandered to the fridge, pulling out the jug of newly purchased milk and pouring it straight into his mouth.

"What are you guys up to this weekend?"

"My first thought would be 'clean'. Did you forget about how my apartment looked last night? Why, what are you doing?"

Justin cleared his throat, picking at the paper towel resting under the bacon strips.

"My unit has this annual thing, like a family barbeque. It's bullshit; the speeches are boring, but the food's good and there's some kids Chloe's age. Would you want to come?"

Morgan paused in her cooking, setting the spatula on the counter before turning to him.

"To family day? With you?" She asked.

Justin's brow furrowed again.

"That's the idea," he said. "Unless you have other devil dog friends I don't know about."

"No, You're the only dog in my life at the moment," she giggled. "But, sure, we'd love to come. Is it on base?"

"Yeah, it's out on the fields. All the guys will be there."

"Sounds like fun. I can bake more cookies. Just let me know what time, we'll be there."

He smirked, the corner of his mouth raising slightly.

"Thanks," he said. "So, anything I can do to help?"

Morgan nodded, picking up a plate with three cooled pieces of toast.

"Yes. You can make sure she eats this, and doesn't just write her name in the syrup with her fork."

Justin took the plate, and another piece of bacon, and gave her his trademark smile.

"Yes ma'am."

Morgan slammed the lid closed after she removed her overnight bags from the Audi's trunk. She stepped back onto the side walk as she pressed the remote lock button, and headed towards her apartment. The weather was finally starting to cool off in preparation for Fall. It was bright and sunny, but a cool occassional breeze ruffled the leaves on the ground. Chloe had grabbed her backpack and run ahead to play on the swings while she waited for her Mom to catch up.

"Morg! Girl!"

Morgan shifted her eyes up as Charmaine stood outside her front door leaning against the railing.

"Oh hey, Char.”

“Hey Girl, I haven’t seen you in a minute."

Morgan nodded, shifting the bags in her hand.

"Yeah, I've had a lot going on.”

Charmaine sucked her teeth.

"Girl, don’t I know it. Meet you out here at 9?”

“Definitely.”

They nodded, and Morgan continued to her apartment. She dropped their overnight bags in the living room and put the clothes in the dry hamper. Then she sat Chloe down at the kitchen table to do her homework while she tidied up the living room. Devon hadn't done much damage to any furniture - mostly thrown things around as if he were having an overly dramatic hissyfit.

Chloe's feet swung back and forth under the dining table, bouncing off the legs of her chair. She wasn't paying any real attention to her addition and subtraction worksheet, instead she was rambling on and on about Mr. Justin. Morgan couldn’t help but smile at how attached Chloe had gotten. Part of her was still nervous about letting Justin become such a big part of their lives, but she could see him being around for a long time. Even if they weren't 'together', he didn't seem like the type to just walk away. Chloe needed the kind of stability Justin provided.

Truthfully, both girls needed it; a strong male figure who would do everything in his power to guide and protect them. Morgan needed someone who could help keep her emotions in check, and Justin had already seemed to play the voice of reason for her more than once. More than anything she needed a safe place to land at the end of the day. Someone who would always support her, even when she wasn't being very supportive of herself.

Morgan made her way to the kitchen and began to start their dinner: four pieces of lemon pepper baked chicken, wild rice, and green beans. Two of the pieces were for her and Chloe, and the other two were for Justin. She had a feeling he'd be by sometime through the night during his shift. Even when he didn't come in to visit he always at least stopped by just to say hello. Once she'd peeked out through the blinds and caught him filling out paperwork on her porch in the dark.

After dinner Morgan got Chloe bathed and dressed for bed. She took a moment to herself to shower and twist her curls into a bun before heading outside with two cold beers in hand; only to find that Char had already beaten her to their usual spot. Char looked up from lighting her cigarette as Morgan took a seat.

"Chick, where were you last night? Noticed you weren’t home. Why was your door busted open?”

Morgan sighed deeply, cracking opening her beer and taking a couple of swallows of the cold liquid before answering.

"Devon is what happened.”

Char's head turned toward her with a snap, anxiously waiting for the story to begin.

“Girl! What happened? What he do? Where's your car?”

“The busted door was the result of Devon deciding he wanted to rear his ignorant head. He went in there and threw all my stuff around. Looks like a tornado landed in my bedroom. I guess that means he finally got the child support enforcement papers in the mail.”

Morgan crossed her legs and slouched back in her seat. Her beer was already half gone and she could feel her blood pressure beginning to rise.

“Yeah, when the law comes after they ass they decide they want to be big and bad. What'd he do to your car?”

“He painted some crap on it. I forgot what it said. But, you know I couldn’t bring it home, or pick up Chloe in a car with shit written on it.”

Char shook her head in disbelief.

"He is another type of crazy, girl. Some of Tre's home boys were walking by yesterday and saw it. If Tre didn’t have my phone I would have called you before you got to the house.”

Morgan nodded, taking another swig.

"It’s fine.”

Char took a drag from her cigarette and pointed towards Morgan’s spot in the parking lot.

"Whose car is that you're driving?”

Morgan stared across the complex, barely making out Justin's Audi in the distance. She was quiet for a moment before taking a drink.

"It’s a rental.”

Char looked at Morgan, her face slowly shifting into a knowing smile. Morgan took another hard swallow, watching Char from the corner of her eye.

"Rental? Uh huh. Well, it's a nice one.”

Morgan didn't say anything, and luckily Char didn't question her any further. She went off on a tangent about whatever argument she and her boyfriend had gotten into the night before. Something about a girl sending Facebook messages. Morgan wasn't paying much attention. Thinking about Justin's car had only caused her mind to wonder about the weekends upcoming events.

She and Chloe were going to Family Day with Justin's unit tomorrow. What was she supposed to wear? What were they going to do? Would the other Marines like her? A million 'what if's were running through her head. But as nervous as she was, she was twice as excited. Justin spent a lot of time on base, and years with the men in his unit. He didn't talk much about what he did in the service, and she was finally going to get a chance to see what his job was all about.

 ~*~

Morgan opened the door to Justin's black car, careful not to bang it on the shiny maroon paint of the sedan next to them. As she stepped out a gust of wind slipped under her floral skirt, nearly blowing it over her head. She shrieked, smoothing a hand over the fabric to keep it down. She glanced back into the car at Justin. He was leaning over the armrest, watching her with a smile. He'd obviously just gotten an eyeful. Justin wiggled his eyebrows before climbing out of the drivers seat. The breeze had no effect on him in his shorts and plain white tee shirt.

He reached for the handle on the backdoor, smiling to himself as a little girl with curly black hair tied in a high ponytail bounced up and down on the seat. Chloe had already undone the straps on her carseat and was impatiently waiting to be released. She'd been in the backseat for 45 minutes asking endless questions about guns, bad guys, Captain America, and the guards at the gate they'd just come through. Morgan had explained that they were going to a picnic on a military base, but all the other fine details had passed right over the little girls' head.

"This is where you go to school to fight the bad guys?" She asked.

"Something like that," Justin said.

Morgan met them at the back of the car, looking around at the parking lot. The sun was shining bright, and red, white, and blue balloons were blowing gently in the breeze. Chain link fences encircled the property, the only entrance being the front gate, staffed by five armed MP's. Ahead of them was a large gray building proudly flying the United States flag, the California state flag, the Marine Corps flag, and the Regiment's flag on a staff pole cemented in the front lawn. Several buildings of various sizes and colors were spread over the grounds, connected by concrete walkways laid into the lawns. Families were miling around the parkinglot, slowly making their way towards the gray building. Justin picked up Chloe, supporting her weight on his hip, and took Morgan's hand in his.

"Are all the guns in there?" Chloe asked.

"Nope. Those are locked up in the armery. This is the administration building, where all the POGs report."

"POGs?"

Justin chuckled when Morgan and Chloe questioned him at the same time.

"Personnel other than grunts."

"Grunts?" Chloe asked, her forehead wrinkling as she frowned.

"I'm guessing you're a grunt," Morgan said.

Justin nodded.

"Grunts do all the work, POGs push all the paper. I swear I don't know how they get laid."

"Laid?" Chloe's head tilted to the side.

Morgan's eyes grew wide and Justin struggled to stiffle his laugh. He switched Chloe to his other hip, blocking Morgan's accusatory glare.

"Don't repeat that anymore," Justin told Chloe. "You're going to get me into trouble."

The tiny group climbed the short flight of steps into the gray building and passed through a set of double doors. Inside the building was trimmed in solid, dark oak. The heels of women's shoes click-clacked on the tile floors. Someone's twin boys were racing matchbox cars in the corner. Red velvet ropes laid out a path from the front door to the auditorium in the back of the building, preventing visitors from wandering into offices. Morgan wordlessly followed Justin as he joined the line waiting to check in at a folding table placed near the auditorium doors. Justin set Chloe down on her feet, motioning to a hallway with a jerk of his head.

"The base commander's office is that way."

Morgan looked. It was a long hall with a painting of President Grant at the end.

"Is that your boss?"

Justin laughed again.

"Something like that."

A few minutes passed as they waited for their turn at the check-in table. Servicemembers gave their names while family members signed in and provided ID. After check-in they received a nametag and a flyer with a map of the grounds and a schedule of the days events. When they stepped up to the table, a young Marine in green cammies saluted Justin. He quickly raised a hand to salute back, and Chloe mimiced his movements with a grin.

"Staff Sergeant Timberlake," he said.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," she grinned. "And who's this?"

All eyes turned to Morgan, and she blushed involuntarily.

"This is my...." he paused. "Morgan."

Morgan's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. The woman with the clipboard smiled, handing Morgan's ID to the silent Marine standing with her.

"I'm Chloe!" A voice declared from the vicinity of Justin's legs.

When the woman smiled down at her, Chloe took a step back and reach up to grab Justin's hand.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Chloe and Morgan. Welcome to the 23rd regiment. I'm Francis, the FRO."

"FRO?"

"Family Readiness Officer. I manage all matters pertaining to unit family readiness. If there's anything you need while your Marine is deployed, in the field, or even drunk on the kitchen floor at home you just let me know."

Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at Justin, whose cheeks had turned the faintest shade of pink. Her Marine, huh? Interesting.

"I'll remember that, thank you."

Francis took a sharpie and wrote the girls' names on two white labels, which Morgan stuck to her and Chloe's chest. Then they followed the flow of the crowd making way into the large auditorium.

The room was decorated in the Regimental colors of red and blue. Banners and steamers hung from the walls, and balloons and tassels were tied to anything that would stand still. Rows upon rows of white chairs had been setup across the floor. Some were sectioned off with placards that read Reserved, but the others were clearly a first come, first served basis.

As Morgan was taking it all in she lost her spot between Justin and Chloe, only realizing it once she was nearly knocked over by a lightning fast child darting through the crowd, and a short redheaded woman with a baby on her hip chasing after him.

"Excuse me!” She harped quickly, barely glancing back at Morgan. “Trevor! Get back here!”

Morgan was taken aback by the abrupt rudeness, but wasn’t able to dwell on it long without being involuntarily pushed forward by the group coming in behind her.

She kept her eyes forward, scanning the area for any sign of Justin.

"Morgan, over here!”

Her attention shifted to the far right, where Justin stood with hand in the air. She sighed with relief, making a quick exit from the chaos and claiming her spot beside her daughter as she sat in between her and Justin. Morgan continued to survey the area around them. Groups of people were huddled together in varies spots. There seemed to be a lot of large families with kids ranging from preteens to infants.

“Are there always this many people?”

Justin nodded, chuckling at the anxiety on Morgan’s face. He reached behind her and rubbed the back of her neck, easing the tension in her neck and shoulders.

"We as the Marines may be few, but we have a lot of people that are proud.”

Morgan nodded in understanding as she looked around, tucking her feet underneath her chair as people moved back and forth in front of them. Some of them excused themselves as they bumped her, but most just kept moving. Morgan was about to ask if everyone was always this rude as well, but a sound of tapping coming through the speakers cut her off.

"Good morning, everyone. If you could all find a seat we can get started."

Francis, the FRO who seemed entirely too nice to a Marine, was at the podium at the front of the room. People began to scatter and dispurse, finding the remaining seats in the crowd. An older woman with short gray hair sat on Morgan's right, while another Marine sat on Justin's left.

“Thank you very much. Parents, families, friends, and above all, Marines of the 23rd Regiment, welcome to the 47th annual Family Day BBQ! It is an honor and a privilege for me to be here, and to have the opportunity to participate in this special occasion. Let me first offer my congratulations to you recent graduates assigned to your first duty station or MOS. Congratulations, you made it! We welcome you and your loved ones to your first Regimental picnic."

Morgan glanced over at Justin just in time to see him roll his eyes.

“But there is no support system like family. For all of us. The love, devotion, support, loyalty, and dedication of our loved ones is what makes us get through each day, through thick and thin. So I’d like to thank all the extraordinary military spouses and family members in this audience for your service and sacrifice. We simply could not do this mission without you."

Chloe shifted in her seat as she sighed heavily, swinging her legs back and forth and pulling at a string hanging from the end of her sundress. She turned her body and tapped Morgan’s arm.

"Mommy,” she whispered.

Morgan never took her eyes from the FRO, but leaned down to hear what Chloe had to say.

"I’m hungry.”

“We'll eat soon. You have to wait honey.”

Chloe sighed again flopping back in her seat with her arms folded. She looked up at Justin, who didn't seem to be paying her any attention.

“Let me also thank all of the active and reserve service members who are here today. I know there’s a great many of you here. Thank you all very much for your service and for your sacrifice. Thank you for choosing to serve our country. Thank you for your willingness to step forward, for your willingness to protect this country and to put your lives on the line in order to defend your fellow Americans."

“Mommy?” Chloe interrupted again, tugging on Morgan’s dress.

Morgan shifted her eyes.

“What is it, Chloe?”

Chloe thought for a second before answering.

"Um, when can I go play? This is boring."

Morgan patted Chloe’s leg reassuringly.

"Honey, please, you will be able to go play later. Right now we all have to listen to the speech.”

"Our democracy exists today because of brave people like you who are willing to stand up and defend it. You have all committed to giving something back to this nation. You have stepped forward to serve in uniform, and as I said, you stepped forward with a willingness to put your lives on the line. You are the heart and soul of what keeps this country safe."

"Mommy?" Chloe started again.

This time Justin answered before Morgan could.

“Chloe what did your Mom just say?”

Justin raised an eyebrow, and the little girl went quiet. Chloe looked from Justin to her Mom, but Morgan quickly turned and looked straight ahead as if she hadn't even heard. She knew Chloe was a little thrown off by Justin's sudden seriousness. Morgan was a grown woman, entangled in a sexual relationship with him, and even she wasn't used to the stern side of him.

“She said I have to wait,” she said meekly.

“That’s what I thought. Now, you sit right here -quietly- and wait until the speech is done. Do you understand?”

Justin spoke in a hushed tone, as not to disturb the guests around them. But, his low voice didn’t take away from the seriousness of his words. Chloe sank down into her chair under his gaze, and subconsciously Morgan did so as well.

"Yes, sir,” she whispered as she turned her eyes forward.

Morgan and Justin looked at each other, their eyes briefly meeting. Then they turned their attention back the speaker without a word. Morgan was smiling inside. Chloe needed a Father-figure, and that included structure and discipline just as much as it did love and attention.

"During this past decade, our nation has depended on Marines to confront determined enemies and threats around the world. We’ll never forget the more than 1,400 Marines who’ve paid the ultimate price for this country since 9/11, some of whom resided at this very base."

A low chorus of 'oorah' arose from the crowd. Morgan looked over at Justin, and his bright blue eyes had darkened to a near steel gray.

"In Iraq, Marines went after the enemy in their own strongholds – taking Fallujah in some of the deadliest fighting of that war. In Afghanistan, Marines wrested control of Helmand province from the Taliban. Our nation will never be able to adequately express our gratitude to the men and women who have stepped forward to protect this country since 9/11; but with enough cases of beer we can damn sure try! So, again, thank you for joining us for this annual family celebration. Enjoy! Semper fi."

Applause sounded as Francis stepped back from the microphone, signalling the end of the induction ceremony. Chloe hopped from her seat, anxious to move on to something more fun. The group of military family and friends milled out through three sets of double doors into a large open field. Multiple picnic tables were set up, draped in red and blue table clothes. Patriotic balloons were tied in random places: table legs, tree limbs, and the support poles of an old volleyball net set up off to the side. Groups were wandering around the area, choosing where to sit and starting to load their plates. Some were heading off to explore the base and tour the different facilities.

"Are you hungry?" Justin turned to her. "If you're hungry we should eat now, because there won't be anything left by the time 2nd Battalion gets here."

"I'm hungry," Chloe answered. "I want a hotdog."

"Okay," Morgan squinted at Justin as she slid on a pair of aviators. "I'm hungry too. Let's get hotdogs."

"Serge! Is that you?"

A loud voice pulled their attention to the right, and two smiling Marines were making their way towards them.

"Is that him?" One was saying to the other as they approached.

"Yeah, that's him."

"I almost didn't recognize him, standing with a chick and shit."

Justin rolled his eyes and half-heartedly raised his hand when they saluted him.

"Wilson, Billingsley, glad to see you two are taking advantage of the lift on the Don't Ask Don't Tell policy."

The two Marines were unphazed, turning their attention to Morgan. They each offered a handshake, each announcing their last names as they did so.

"I'm Morgan, and this is my daughter Chloe."

"Hi Chloe," Wilson dropped to a knee, meeting her at eye level. "I have a little girl your age too. Her name is April. Do you wanna come meet her?"

Chloe looked at her Mother, who nodded in approval. Then she looked back at Wilson and nodded excitedly. Wilson smiled back and motioned for Chloe to follow as he headed toward the picnic tables.

"Come on, Serge, we saved you a seat. Only saved you one though because you usually come alone, so it may be a tight squeeze."

Billingsley, who'd been quiet so far, started to walk at Justin's side. He was grinning like a Chesire cat, practically skipping across the grass. His eyes never left the Serge, and he never said a word, but the smile stayed plastered to his face. They arrived at a red table in the back of the field, where two other Marines and their families were conversing animatedly. A blonde woman smiled as they approached.

"There's Timberlake now. I thought maybe you weren't coming this year."

Justin swung a leg over the wooden bench, plopping down.

"I'm only here for the free BBQ," he said. "Morgan, this is Elaine, Wilson's wife."

Elaine shook hands with Morgan and introduced her daughter April. She was a blond little girl with green eyes and two missing front teeth. Neither little girl was shy about their newfound friend, and they ran off to play in the nearby sprinklers without even asking for permission. Morgan smiled, taking a seat on the bench next to Justin. He turned to her, sliding a pair of Oakley shades over his eyes.

"I'm gonna get a burger. I'll grab a couple hotdogs."

"Okay. Thanks."

Justin stood up, heading towards the food tables with Billingsley still smiling at his side. Morgan smirked as she watched Justin walk off towards to the food table. She didn't know if it was all the exercise and training, or just the way he was naturally built, but he sure did have a nice, firm--.

"He's a great leader, that one," Elaine interrupted Morgan’s admiring.

“Yeah, he seems like it from what I can tell by --I forgot his name-- the one guy following Justin around.”

Elaine chuckled, picking at a piece of cantalope on a paper plate.

"Billingsley. He loves Timberlake. A lot of the guys in the platoon look up to him. He's the reason they come home alive."

"How many guys are there?"

"In this regiment, there are about 3,500 guys, but they're divided amongst a few bases. Here, there's around 500 on this base, depending on what orders are. Timberlake commands about 30, including my Lance Corporal."

Morgan nodded, staring back over at Justin as he moved through the line shaking his head in amusement as the other men spoke with enthusiasm.

“Your daughter is beautiful."

"Thank you."

"She seems to have taken a liking to the Serge.”

"You call him Serge too? I thought only the guys called him that."

"Everyone calls him that. It's more a nickname than a rank now. Can you think of anything more fitting with the way he bosses everyone around?"

Morgan giggled and nodded, looking out at Chloe as she ran through the sprinklers. She was squealing delightfully, shaking wet curls out of her face. The weather was pleasant - pleasantly hot. She was glad that she'd lathered them both with plenty of sun screen before leaving the house.

At the food tables, Justin and the other men were making progress in the line and had begun to fill their plates with assorted items: corn on the cob, potato salad, chips, and watermelon. Wilson was in front, while Billingsley brought up the rear, effectively squeezing their Sergeant in the middle.

"So," Billingsley finally spoke, "who's the chick?"

Justin raised an eyebrow from behind his shades as he squeezed ketchup onto his burger bun.

"You met her. Her name's Morgan."

"Uh huh," Billingsley sounded, "but, who is she?"

"What Bills is trying to ask is, is she the one who sent the cookies? Is that our new unit Mom?"

Justin couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Yes, she's the one who sent the cookies."

"Ah-ha! So that is our new Mom!" Willings exclaimed excitedly.

"She's cute. And she cooks? Good job, Serge," Billingsley patted him on the back. "Hey, can she make us more cookies?"

Justin was about to make a comment on how they'd both barely passed their last combat readiness fitness test and obviously didn't need any cookies, when a voice even more authoritative than his called his attention.

"Sergeant!"

His head snapped to the right, meeting the eyes of Lieutenant Colonel Mason, who was heading straight for him. Justin quickly ditched the paper plates in his hands, straightened his back, and raised a hand in salute. Billingsley and Wilson, too close to ignore the senior officer, followed suit. When the Lieutenant Colonel reached them he saulted back.

"At ease, gentlemen," he said.

Justin relaxed a little, holding his hands behind his back and unclenching his jaw.

"Sir."

"Timberlake, I hear you're the man responsible for the raid in Bagram earlier this year. Four insurgents killed, three captured."

"Yes, sir."

"I also hear you had a KIA?"

An image of Willings' face as he'd played with the kids in the streets of Afghanistan flashed before Justin's eyes.

"Yes sir," he said firmly. "He was a good Marine. It only pushed us to complete the mission, sir."

LCol. Mason nodded.

"Good job, Marine," he said. "You and your men will be deploying again soon. Tensions are rising in our relationship with Pakistan, and soon after we'll need boots on the ground near Syria. I know you'll make HQ Company proud."

Justin nodded in understanding, and saluted the Lieutenant Colonel again, holding his position until the older man walked away. After he was gone, Justin sighed heavily, turning to his Corporal and Lance Corporal.

"Alright, Pakistan," Wilson smiled. "Back to the sandpit."

Wilson and Billingsley began to talk amongst themselves, going over a checklist of all the things they wanted in future carepackages: soccer balls, calling cards, baby wipes, bacon bits. Justin looked across the lawn at Morgan. She was laughing with Elaine as they watched their girls play. The sprinklers had been shut off, and now the kids were playing with the volleyball net, running back and forth underneith it.

Deployments for the 23rd ranged from anywhere between a month and a year. Knowing the Middle East, it would probably be closer to the latter. While he was used to it, he wasn't thrilled about it. He had just gotten used to being home again, Elaine had probably just gotten used to having Wilson back, and Morgan -- poor Morgan had no idea what a deployment entailed. Justin turned back to his paper plate of burgers and hotdogs. Suddenly lunch didn't look nearly as appetizing.

Back at the unit's table, Morgan was listening intently to Elaine as she told a story about Justin's first deployment in Europe.

"Willings refused to admit that he was the one who'd stolen the uniform, and Justin, of course, couldn't find it anywhere. So, the next morning Serge didn't show up for formation - since he had no pants - and got stuck with latrine duty for a week. He still doesn't know Willings was the one who did it. Chad took his secret to the grave."

Elaine had been laughing and giggling her way through the story, but now she had a far off look in her eye and her voice had gone quiet. Morgan got the feeling that Chad's passing had been a big deal to the unit.

"Sounds like Justin and Chad were close," she said.

Elaine 's brow furrowed momentarily.

"Close? They were joined at the hip. They grew up together, joined together. They almost died together. Serge made it out, but he took Chad's death pretty hard. He hasn't talked to you about him? I guess I shouldn't be that surprised."

"What happened to Chad?" Morgan asked.

It saddened her heart to think about Justin going through so much and losing someone so close to him. But, at the same time she was interested to hear about his life from someone who knew him. Maybe whatever had happened with Chad had something to do with his dream. Unfortunately, it didn't look like she was going to get an answer to her question. Elaine started to speak, but closed her mouth. Inside, she was torn. She liked Morgan, but her loyalties were to Wilson, and staying out of his CO's personal business.

Luckily, their conversation was cut short when something in the distance caught her eye, and she hurridly began to fix her hair.

"Chad is the least of your concerns right now," she said lowly. "They're coming."

"Who?" Morgan asked.

She turned, expecting to look out at the open field where the kids were laying on the grass, and instead came face-to-face with a grinning redhead in a blue tank top and loose jeans. Next to her was a slightly younger woman with stick straight brunette hair.

"Hi," they chirped in unison.

Morgan's eyebrow rose involuntarily.

"Hi Pam, Karen," Elaine said politely.

Pam took a seat, carefully swinging a leg over the bench.

"How are you Elaine?" Pam asked. "I'm sure you're glad to have Wilson home."

Elaine's smile lit up her whole face at the mention of her husband's name.

"It was an adjustment having someone take over 80 percent of the bed, but I'm dealing."

Pam smiled and folded her hands on the table, turning her attention to Morgan.

"I thought I saw a new face so I thought I'd introduce myself. I'm Pam Mason," she offered a handshake. "This is my friend, Karen."

"Hi," Karen chirped again.

"This is Morgan," Elaine provided.

Pam nodded.

"You came with Staff Sergent Timberlake, right?"

Morgan nodded. Gee, word seemed to travel fast around here.

"Yes, he invited me and my daughter."

Pam's eyebrows rose momentarily. Then she caught herself, and the smile returned to her face. Morgan's eyes narrowed slightly. She didn't like fakeness, and this Pam person had it written all over her.

"Your daughter? That's lovely."

"How long have you two been together?" Karen asked.

Morgan shrugged.

"I met him at the beginning of summer," she said.

It wasn't a lie, and it also didn't reveal much information.

"Have you dated a Marine before?"

"No."

"What about your kid's Dad? How long have you been seperated?"

Morgan paused, looking over Pam and Karen. Their plastic smiles were frozen in place. Morgan glanced at Elaine before turning back to Pam.

"I'm sorry, who are you again?"

"I'm Pamela Mason. My husband is Lieutenant Colonel Mason, the base commander."

The base commander? Justin's 'sort of' boss. Great.

"Oh, okay," Morgan sounded. "I'm new to all this. I don't know much about how management and rank and all that works."

The women all stifled a giggle.

"They're superior officers," Elaine said gently. "Not managers."

Morgan bite her bottom lip, inwardly wishing a hole in the ground would open up and swallow her. First, these two women had come out of nowhere, giving her the third degree about a relationship she wasn't even sure of. Now, she was making an idiot of herself by not knowing any of the terms, jobs, or even who the surperior officers were. It was obvious to everyone that she hadn't spent much time 'talking' with her Marine.

"What do you do for a living?" Karen asked.

Her slender fingers were toying with the thin silver chain around her neck.

Morgan's annoyance must have flashed acrossed her face because Pam hurried to explain.

"Karen doesn't mean to pry," she said sweetly. "But, she's become attached to the men in 23rd and she's a little overprotective - something like a big sister. So many girls have a fantasy about dating a Marine."

Morgan took a deep breathe. What, exactly, was this woman trying to insinuate? She was no girl. She was a grown woman with a child. But, if this was the bosses wife the last thing she wanted to do was lose her temper.

"Absolutely," Morgan agreed. "If I see any girls sniffing around him I'll be sure to take care of it."

Pam and Karen exchanged a look, and Elaine smiled. Then, the brunette excused herself to get something to drink.

"I hope I didn't offend you," Pam said. "We just want to do our part to make sure our guys aren't being taken advantage of - especially Justin. He's important to his team, being a leader is a big responsibility. His needs to be able to keep his head in the game at all times."

Morgan nodded, turning to glance over her shoulder at the food tables. Justin had been on his way back, a red plate with two foil wrapped hotdogs in one hand, and a blue plate with an overloaded burger in the other. Wilson and Billingsley were following along, carrying paper plates and plastic cups of their own. Karen had saunted over to them, her little white denim shorts riding higher on her legs with every step. Morgan thought of her own thighs, and the small section of cellulite she was still trying to burn off. Chloe had long since killed her days of short-shorts in public.

The two Marine's following Justin didn't stay to listen to the conversation he was having with Karen. They only stayed there a moment, letting their eyes sweep up and down her figure before excusing themselves. It was hard to read Justin's reaction. He wore his usual stony expression, and his eyes were hidden behind dark lens. Morgan could guess what was happening, but the flirtacious way Karen was twisting her hair around her finger. Then she smiled and leaned into him, her hand reaching out ever so briefly to slide something into his pocket.

"Somehow," Morgan started grimly, "I don't think Justin needs our help."

It was dusk by the time the group of visiting families began to file back into the parking lot. After Karen's secret exchange with Justin, Pam had left the table to find her husband, and Billingsley distracted them all with jokes and insults he'd learned from a drill instructor at boot camp. The group sat together, talking, laughing; trading embarassing stories from the field. Wilson and Elaine held hands, much to Billingsley shagrin. Morgan devoured two hotdogs, and split a third with Justin after he'd put away his third burger. Chloe had picked at her hotdog bun, then settled on stuffing her face with cheddar and sour cream potato chips and carrots instead. April, like her Mom, picked at a few pieces of fruit.

Afterward, Justin had given them a mini tour of the grounds. They visited the firing range, one of the training courses, the mess hall, and the barracks. He'd lead them through a maze of halls before arriving at a big, rundown room filled with lockers and bunk beds, and pointed out the mattress he'd slept on during the previous month's drill weekend. Morgan could only smile to herself as she thought of the late night text messages they'd exchanged as he laid here on this lumpy, thin, twin sized mattress surrounded by snoring men while she tossed and turned, lonely in her Queen sized bed at home.

The day had flown by, hours passing too quickly for either of them to notice. Chloe had started to complain half way through their walk, claiming her stomach hurt and her legs were tired. Justin swooped her up, ignoring the curious glance from Wilson and a knowing smile from Billingsley. During the long trek from the back of the base to the front parkinglot the little girl had succumbed to her exhaustion. Now she was deadweight in Justin's arms, her cheek mashed against his shoulder, and damp, black hair spilling down his back and chest.

Before heading off in their different directions, the group said goodbye, shaking hands and giving hugs. Justin and Morgan went to the black Audi, where Morgan climbed into the passenger seat while Justin gently placed Chloe in the back. She only woke up for a moment, her groggy lids barely opening long enough to take in the car's interior and call for her Mom. By the time Justin had buckled her in and climbed into the driver's seat she was asleep again. He glanced back at her and let out a sigh while shaking his head.

"What do you feed that kid?"

Morgan laughed.

"You're the one who got her a plate of potato chips. I hate to think about how many calories that was."

Justin smiled to himself, digging into his pockets and fishing out his phone before dropping it into one of the cupholders. Then he put his hand back into his pocket and pulled out a slip of white paper.

"Did you meet that chick, Karen?" He asked.

"Yeah," Morgan answered.

Her brown eyes stared at the piece of paper in his hand. Her heart rate was increasing with each passing second, her mind swirling with questions. What had they talked about? How long have they known eachother? What was on the paper? The dark, heavy feelings of anxiety, fear, and jealousy were growing in the pit of her stomach.

"She stuck this in my pocket," he said simply, sliding the key into the ignition.

"What is it?"

Morgan waited for him to say 'nothing' or 'none of your business' like Devon usually would. Instead, Justin handed her the piece of paper and busied himself with putting on the seatbelt and cracking the windows to let in some fresh air. Morgan unfolded the paper, her eyes soaking in elegant, swirling calligraphy written in blue ink.

Under her name she'd scrawled the 10 digits of her number, and a big heart. Morgan read it over and over, dread starting to fill her veins. Maybe she could memorize the number and call this brazen brat before he did.

Not that it would do her any good. If Justin wanted to talk to someone there was very little she could do about it. He also probably wouldn't appreciate her meddling in his business like that. While their relationship was more than friendly, she was in no way his girlfriend. Maybe she'd been a fool to think that he wanted to be a permanent fixture in her and Chloe's lives. Their relationship had begun more than 2 months ago, yet they hadn't even had a conversation entertaining the idea of being exclusive. He was a freebird, free to fly to whatever nest he wanted. Reluctantly, she folded the paper and handed it back to him.

"So, what are you gonna do?"

She shouldn't have asked, but she couldn't help herself. Karen was a tall, pretty girl with nice thighs. Morgan couldn't exactly blame him if he did decide to call her. Maybe she should have just been happy he was forthcoming about the note and left it at that.

Justin shrugged, reading over the note again. Morgan was waiting for him to slide it back into his pocket, when suddenly he started to crumple it between his fingers instead. The paper was twisted into a tiny ball, and half-hazardly tossed out his cracked driver's window.

"Take you home, and go to work," he said simply.

Justin turned, putting a hand on the back of her seat as he backed out of the parking space. Morgan stared out the windshield, watching the administration building draw further and further away. No one saw the small smile of relief that played across her lips.

Morgan’s eyes stared at the road as her thumbs tapped against the steering wheel, drumming the beat of the song playing on the local radio station. Her stomach began to grumble, not from hunger, but anxiety. She had a destination in mind, and she couldn’t believe that she was really going through with it. Even though it was long overdue, she couldn’t believe that she'd finally built up the courage. Her sudden change of heart had a lot to do with the previous day’s events, mainly Justin.

Spending the day with him at the Marine Corps’s Family Day put a lot of things into perspective regarding her and Chloe’s safety, and their lives in general. The stories that Elaine, Wilson, and Billingsley had told her, were so inspirational. It not only shed light on Justin’s already seemingly wonderful character, it also highlighted her own selfish behavior when she should have been focusing her attention on protecting Chloe. How could she be so prideful and egotistical? She had sacrificed their safety simply because she didn’t want to ask for help.

What if she had stayed in the apartment the night of the break-in? Anything could have happen. Devon could have come back for her and harmed Chloe in the process. Just the thought of it made Morgan nauseated. She was so glad that Justin had been there to talk some kind of sense into her - even if he'd had to damn near shake it into her. Now, she understood a little bit more of what his life was about; and had an all new appreciation for the time, energy, and selfless dedication that Justin and the other Marines put into protecting not only the families that they held dear, but also families they barely knew, and families around the world they would never know.

Suddenly, everything had become so clear. She knew now that it was time for her to protect herself. Slowly, she guided her car into a parking lot, and drove down the aisle until she came to an empty park in front of a large brown brick building. It was brightly lit inside, with people filing in and out of the double doors.

Morgan stared up at the building, taking in a deep breath before turning off the engine and pushing the car door open. Then, she grabbed her purse, hiked it up onto her shoulder, and slammed the door shut. She checked her reflection in the window; smoothing her hair, and shaking out her red t-shirt and black capri slacks. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, Morgan turned on her heel and make her way towards the glass doors. Her eyes bore holes in the design painted on the doors - a gold shield surrounded by 'Police Department' in white letters.

It took a moment but she finally wrapped her fingers around the silver door handle, took a breath so deep she could feel her lungs expanding in her chest, and stepped into the building.

The end of a blue pen tapped rhythmically against a yellow memo pad as Justin sat behind a school desk in the large situation room on base. It was a Monday morning, about 8am, and the sun was finally sitting high in the sky. Its warm rays were trying to pierce through the closed blinds, but only the smallest of beams were able to pass through. The room was dark, the only light coming from the images being projected onto a white canvas at the front of the room. The entire 23rd regiment was being briefed on the upcoming deployment, and while it was in Justin's better interest to pay close attention - he couldn't. His cobalt eyes took in the images on the screen, but not in grave detail; his mind was occupied by other thoughts.

Morgan.

He hadn’t talked to her in the last couple of days since the incident occurred, and this was the longest they'd gone without talking since he'd met her. Justin was haunted by the look on her face after he unknowingly attacked her in the middle of one of his nightmares. He still cringed at the thought of having hurt someone he cared about so much. Ever since, every night for him had been sleepless - which didn’t help with his PTSD; something she still knew nothing about.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her, he just didn’t know how. It was a matter he generally kept very private. In the military, having PTSD wasn't looked down upon - it was known as one of the 'invisible wounds' of combat. But, even though the other troops didn't lose respect for you, having a reputation for it would probably cost you a promotion, and maybe even your current platoon leadership. Being demoted was something Justin couldn't handle. He didn’t want to come off as a weak individual with a mental problem, because he wasn’t crazy and didn’t want her or any other civilians thinking that he was. The morning after the incident he'd had the opportunity to tell her everything that was going on, but instead he froze and ignored the situation all together.

"You won't understand. If you haven't been through it, then you'll never get it."

"You don't know that! Please, tell me what happened-."

"Fuck, Morgan, what do you want to know? I went somewhere, people shot at me, I shotback, shit blew up, people died, I left, and now I'm fucked in the head. That's what happened, alright?"

Justin cringed at the memory. Morgan had only been trying to understand the reasoning behind what he'd done to her. Rather than opening up, he snapped at her and locked her out.

He knew that clamming up had probably -well not probably, definitely- made the situation worse. Now there was uneasiness, a strange and foreign tension between them. His heart was heavy because he definitely didn’t want to hurt her, or leave her in the dark about what was going with him when her life had basically been an open book to him. It was only fair that she knew, but he still didn’t know exactly how to go about it.

“Well son, you have to start somewhere. Sounds like she's trusted you with her secrets, now it's time for you to trust her with yours. This is something you both need to talk out together. You can't have much of a relationship without communication. But, I can tell you this: women are the most beautiful gift God can give a man, and no one is more deserving of that than you. Now that you have them, you have to treat them right. If you care for her, tell her. As you know, life is too short to just sit on the sideline hoping for something to happen. Sometimes you just got to take the proactive steps and make them happen - especially when you love her.”

This Marine wasn’t the best at communicating on such a raw, emotional level. He didn’t want to become unraveled in front of her; no longer looking like the protector, but like he needed to be protected from himself.

His eyes watched as the Base Commander motioned toward the map of regions that they would be going into during their deployment. Justin was still only half listening, but he knew there would be many more meetings of this nature in the future containing even more detail. He would get up to speed later. Besides, this wasn't his first time at the rodeo - he knew what to expect in the Middle East.
Justin's thoughts drifted back to Morgan and the conversation he'd had with his Dad. As usual, his Father was right. Justin really did care for Morgan, and would do anything to keep her and Chloe in his life, but he needed to take better care of himself. He had to start taking his medication on time, and get back into those therapy sessions his doctor was constantly asking about.

“It sounds to me like you genuinely care about this woman and her daughter. But, before you can take care of anyone you have to be able to take care of yourself, son.”

His heart started to beat faster at the mere thought of opening a deep can of emotional combat worms. He'd had a hard enough time doing it with the Marine counselor when he'd gotten state-side; he'd literally sweated through his undershirt and had a mental break down while dispelling every detail. It was like opening up a flood gate and watching himself drown. But he knew the more he kept it in, the more it would build and expand, and probably end up driving him crazy.

Using the sleeve of his uniform, he wiped the sweat from his forehead as he sat up in his chair and tried to shift his focus from the impending conversation he was going to have with Morgan.

“This mission won’t be as hostile as the others, but it is still of vital importance. As of now, we're not expecting any aggressive combat operations. As you know our President is trying his best to pull the majority of the Armed Forces out of certain regions, but it's imperative that we keep a strong military presence in some of these less stable areas.”

The Commander spoke sternly as he paced back and forth at the front of the room. When he was done he signaled for the lights to come back on and the screen to be turned off.

How could he say these missions weren’t as hostile as the others? Any mission during which you are putting your life in jeopardy was hostile and stressful. Justin could feel his shoulders and neck starting to tense up. There'd been so much going on in the past couple of days that sometimes he couldn’t feel himself breath under all the anxiety.

Slowly, his head began to pound from the neck up. He knew that a conversation with her was needed, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. In the mist of his thoughts, the Commander released them with a wave of his hand. Two hours had passed and Justin hadn't even realized it thanks to the mental battle going on in his mind. Sliding from behind the desk, he gathered his belongings and filed out of the room behind the other men. As he made his way down the hall he pulled out his cell phone and searched for Morgan’s named to sent a quick text.

“We need to talk.”

He pressed send and slipped the phone back into his pocket. As he approached the double doors that led to the mess hall, an arm slung around his shoulders. Justin turned his face to look at LCpl. Wilson, who was eyeing him with a grin.

“What’s up Staff Sergeant?” Wilson pulled back, raising in his hand in a casual salute as Justin chuckled.

“Lance Corporal.”

“Serge, you alright today? I noticed that you were a little zoned out in the meeting. Trouble in paradise?”

Wilson's face looked genuinely concerned. He was used to Timberlake being a tight lipped and stern man, but he'd noticed his unit leader rubbing his neck and shifting in his seat a lot during the meeting.

Justin let out a short sigh, shaking his head when Wilson pointed toward the food line in the mess hall. His head was too clouded to eat. He needed some air.

"Zoned out? Yeah, something like that. I just have a lot on my mind.”

Wilson clapped his hands together in confirmation.

"I knew it! You look like I do when Elaine and I get into something heated. Nothing like trading a war in the field for a war in your own home.”

The Staff Sergeant nodded in agreement as they pushed through the double doors and stepped out into the sunlight. Justin pulled his sunglasses from his jacket pocket and placed them over his eyes.

"Wilson, let me ask you something.”

“Anything Serge.”

They began a slow stroll across the large lawn towards the parking lot area.

"Forget the ranks for a minute, this just between me and you, marine to marine: how do you communicate with Elaine when you come back from a mission?”

“What you mean?”

Justin cleared his throat nervously.

"I mean, how did you tell her about everything that happened over there? How did you convey that to her?”

Wilson ran his hand over his buzz cut, and looked off in the distance for a moment.

"It wasn’t easy," he said. "I told myself that I would never let her know what happen over there. I figured it was the same thought process as when people go to Vegas. You know how the saying goes? What happens there, stays there? I tried to stick to that, just come home and focus on what was happening here.”

“How did that work out?”

The pair came to slow stop underneath a large Oak tree, shading them from the beaming sun. Justin turned to Wilson, folding his thick arms across his chest, and the shorter man chuckled, shaking his head.

"Marine to marine? It didn’t. Shit failed miserably. We fought a lot because she wanted to know everything I could afford to tell her. She ran out of things to tell me about, everything that had happened when I was gone, and she just wanted an even exchange. I just wanted to leave all that shit where it was and move onto something else - something happy. I felt like though the war was stressful enough - living it for those months - and I didn’t want to have to relive it again. I didn’t want her stressing over it again. I figured the less she knew, the better off we were. But, it only made our relationship worse. She told me it felt like I was keeping a big secret from her. A secret that affected me when it came to loud noises, abrupt movements, voices, sayings. Sometimes it seemed like I would drift off for no reason. One time we were in the truck together, just driving down the road, and we hit one of those little man holes in the ground, for PG&E or whatever. She didn't even notice it, but to me it felt like the roads in Baghdad, and in my mind I was back there with you and Chad, looking for that fucker Saddam with rounds whizzing past my head.”

Justin nodded, able to relate to Wilson's words. He'd never thought about it like that: his life being a secret. Maybe that was how Morgan felt - like he was keeping part of himself a secret. He had been keyed-in on all that was going on in her life and everything that had happened to her before him. All she wanted was a little of that in return - to know who he was, an explanation for the complicated man that stood before her every day. She wanted to know what haunted him in the middle of the night. It was normal to question why he'd damn near choked her to death. Who wouldn’t want to know why?

“It made me real uncomfortable for the longest time," Wilson continued. "But, I had a choice to make. I could fight with her, protect my pride, and ruin my family -everything I had fought so hard to come back to; or, I could confess, ruin my pride for awhile, and keep my family. My family is the most important thing to me and that's a battle I always want to win. When the war is over, and we're too old for deployments, they'll trade you and me in for a couple of fresh, eager 18 year olds, and all we'll have are memories, our girls, and our kids. Yeah, my pride was shot for awhile and I had to be all wussified, but if that’s the price I had to pay to keep my family together I will do it over and over again without a thought.”

The two men stood in silence, Justin soaking it all in. Wilson had made some real valid points, and by the looks of his family during Family Day he was winning the war at home. Whenever Justin saw them together, they were happy and in love. That was something that Justin wanted for himself, Morgan, and Chloe: to always be smiling, happy, and full of love. Not nervous and uneasy, unsure of when Justin would have another episode and what would happen.

Wilson interrupted Justin's thoughts one last time, raising a lone finger in the air as if he'd suddenly remember something.

“And another thing! After getting a lot of that stuff off my chest, we had some of the best sex I've ever had. Hands down!”

Justin smirked as he rolled his eyes and Wilson chuckled.

"Serge, if that isn’t motivation for you to open up to your ol' lady, then I don’t know what is. You need to get your pipes oiled up as much as possible before we head back out, because we all know how you get in the field, sir.”

Wilson gave Justin a rough slap on the back. Justin shoved him off roughly and playfully stocking back off to his car.

“Good day, Wilson.”

He pulled his phone from his pocket again, dialing a long distance number. There was an important favor he needed to ask an old friend.

Morgan's eyes flicked up from the text message, watching Chloe's head as she bobbed back and forth on the sofa. The child was perfectly content in her own little world, quietly singing along to the OneDirection song playing in her headphones. Turning her eyes back to her phone, the words seemed to pop off the screen.

"We need to talk."

That phrase was the kiss of death for relationships - if what they had could technically be considered a relationship.

It had been days since she'd last seen or even spoken to Justin. After the incident in his apartment they'd eaten an awkward breakfast, and promised to text that evening. But he never texted, and neither did she. She needed the time to think things over in peace. As much as Justin seemed to be her own personal savior in many ways, he also seemed to be a distraction; something that could - at times - cloud her judgment and quiet the small, cautious voice in her head. During her time away from him, her heart and brain had been doing battle in her body.

Her brain was running through all the facts. For one, abuse always gets worse not better. It starts with a slap, like Justin had the first night she'd stayed with him. Then it moves on to a punch, a kick, or even choking, like he had the week before. The next step was something more dangerous, like a push down the stairs, or being flung across a lawn. Next, a broken arm or cracked rib. What if Chloe woke up in the middle of one of his attacks? Would he hurt her too? How could she protect Chloe from him, when she couldn't even protect herself from him?

But her heart was screaming something completely different. Her heart knew that the Justin who appeared in the middle of the night, with beady black eyes and an emotionless stare wasn't her Justin at all. Sure, he'd seemed cold and distant in the beginning, but he hadn't been that way toward her in a long time. When they were alone, Justin was warm, and comforting. He played with her hair, and drew delicate patterns on her skin with his fingertips. Even though they'd only been apart for a few days, she could feel his absence in her spirit. Sunny days didn't seem as bright; cold nights grew even more chilly. Deep down she knew something was making him act the way he was. Dark Justin wasn't really part of him, it was something that had developed to cope with whatever he'd been through. But, he still hadn't even come close to telling her what it was. If he couldn't open up, Morgan couldn't see how there would ever be a future for them.

Apparently, Justin's mind had been talking to him as well, according to this text message. Maybe breaking up was the best thing for both of them. For the past couple of months Justin had been consistently pushing for her to put Chloe's needs and safety ahead of her own. Chloe had already witnessed so much in her young life, that's why Morgan had left Devon in the first place. It didn't make sense to take her away from an abusive biological father, just to hand her over to an abusive play-step-father. As loudly as her heart was screaming, she had to do the smart thing. She had to listen to her head.

It was also probably best for him to be the one who did the breaking up, because even now she wasn't sure she had the strength to look him in the eye and tell him it was over. He'd been the strong one for them both so many times already, he'd have to do it once more.

"Okay," she wrote back. "When?"

His reply was almost instant.

"Are you busy now?"

"No. Come on over."

"On my way."

Morgan set her phone on the dining table, running her fingers over the wooden top. Images of a night two months ago flooded her mind. Heavy breathing, roaming hands. A black, leather belt laid on the table, nails scratching against the grain. His body intimately connected to hers with deep, piercing thrusts; and soft, pink lips running along the edge of her shoulder.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she considered what to do next. Morgan glanced down at her gray sweat pants and dirty white tank top. Normally, she would run into her room and change; put on a pretty dress and curl the ends of her hair. But, there was no point in getting dolled up to get dumped, was there? The tears she'd cry later on would only be a waste of perfectly good mascara.

Minutes seemed to pass like hours as Morgan waited for Justin to arrive. The anxiety coursing through her caused her foot to tap nervously against the kitchen tile. Finally, she heard the familiar sound of his heavy boots on the porch a moment before a strong knock sounded on the door.

Chloe jumped up from the sofa, beating Morgan to the door. Her forgotten headphones continued to sing on the sofa, dangling off the edge of a cushion. She yanked it open, and her eyes widened with excitement.

"Mr. Justin!!" She shouted.

Justin stood there, in that stupidly sexy green camouflage uniform that had his last name embroidered on the patch on his chest. His black boots were laced up past his ankles, the bottom of his thick pants tucked in. Silver dog tags gleamed in the sunlight from outside. Morgan could smell the dirt and fresh air scent that was his essence all the way from across the room. Chloe's arms rose expectantly, waiting for him to lift her up. He did, placing a kiss on her cheek while her arms wound around his neck.

"Where were you Mr. Justin? Were you playing with the other Army men?"

He snorted a laugh. They weren't 'Army men' and they certainly didn't 'play' together; but, looking into her big, innocent eyes who could care about the minor technicalities?

"Yes," he said. "We had to go practice some stuff. Now I get a break to come hang out with you."

Chloe's already painfully wide smile seemed to grow, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"I missed you, Mr. Justin."

He smiled, his large hand softly patting the middle of Chloe's tiny back. His chin brushed Chloe's chubby little cheek as he replied, "I missed you too."

Morgan's heart stopped in her chest, and her eyes threatened to well over with tears. Obviously, regardless of whichever one of them decided to call it quits, it wasn't going to be easy. Just then, Justin's eyes met hers, and he lifted his head from Chloe's shoulder.

"Do you think you could go play for a little bit while I talk to your Mom?"

"No!"She protested immediately.

"Please?" Justin insisted. "It'll only be a few minutes."

"No!" She said again. "I want to play with you first."

"We'll play after," he said. "You know what, this will give you plenty of time to go find the perfect princess outfit to play in."

Chloe had been looking at him with a furrowed brow and pouty lips, but now her eyebrow raised in thought. Maybe Mr. Justin had a point.

Morgan watched Justin carry Chloe off into her room, promising that he'd stay long enough to see her latest princess dance. He returned a moment later, his arms empty, and closed her bedroom door behind himself.

"Hi," he said simply.

Morgan couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes, so she stared at the Staff Sergeant patch on his chest.

"Hi."

"She hasn't changed one bit," he said.

Morgan shrugged.

"That's my Chloe; a lover of attention."

Justin smirked and bit his tongue. He wanted to make a remark about how she wasn't the only one in this apartment who loved attention, but he figured he was on thin enough ice already. A beat of awkward silence passed between them, and Morgan motioned to the lonely sofa.

"Do you want to sit down?" She asked.

Justin nodded moving to one side of the sofa. He frowned inwardly when Morgan sat down on the opposite end. Physically they were only a few feet apart, but to his heart it felt like miles.

"How was drill?" Morgan asked.

Justin looked down at the coffee table, seeing a My Little Pony coloring book with green and purple scribbles on the cover.

"Long," he said.

For a long while neither of them spoke. Morgan's eyes nervously scanned the beige walls, and Justin watched her hands begin to tremble ever so slightly.

"Look," she sighed finally, exasperated. "I know why you're here."

"You do?"

"I know you want to break up, and that's fine."

Justin's brow twisted into a knot and he looked genuinely taken back by her words.

"What? Break up?"

"You're right, it's probably for the best. Both of us have a lot going on in our personal lives, and trying to mesh the two together is a big task. You're obviously not up for it. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm up for it. But-."

"Morgan."

At the sound of her name her rambling stopped, and she looked at him with sad eyes.

"Why are you always trying to figure out what I'm thinking instead of just asking?" Justin muttered to himself, running a hand over his buzz cut.

Then, he scooted a little closer, resting on the middle cushion of the sofa. Morgan moved back into the corner of the soda, against the pillows.

"The last time I saw you -- our last real conversation -- you asked me a question, but I brushed it off. I realize now, you deserve an answer."

"I do?"

"You do," Justin nodded.

His tongue flicked out quickly, wetting his bottom lip, and his left knee started to bounce up and down. His mind was running over the past year of his life, trying to decide where to begin.

"...She's trusted you with her secrets, now it's time for you to trust her with yours. You can't have much of a relationship without communication."

He cleared his throat, and looked over at Morgan. She was watching him expectantly, waiting for his voice to begin to fill the silence. Suddenly Justin's throat felt as dry as the Sahara.

"I could fight with her, protect my pride, and ruin my family.... or ruin my pride, and keep my family. My family is the most important thing to me and that's a battle I always want to win."

Okay, Justin thought to himself. Here goes nothing.

"When I moved here as a kid, the very first friend I made was a kid named Chad Willings."

Morgan nodded.

"Elaine told me a little bit about him at the picnic."

Justin nodded back, and shifted his focus to the rug on the floor. He couldn't tell her this story, and look her in the eye at the same time.

"Chad and I were best friends. He was the only one who was willing to be friends with the new white boy who'd just moved to town. I was the only one willing to be friends with a guy who was more into himself than Kanye West is now. He taught me how to do everything: play basketball, pick up girls, walk the streets without getting shot. That middle one was probably his favorite past time."

She watched him smile fondly as memories played through his mind.

"We joined the Corps together, not long after his 20th birthday. I passed the test with flying colors, Chad had to take it twice. I told him he should just go for the Army, but he always, always, wanted to be a Marine. I didn't care. I didn't even really know what I was getting into. I just knew I wanted to be half as cool as Chad was, so I followed him. Our last mission together was in Afghanistan. Do you remember the speech during Family Day? When the FRO talked about Hemland province?"

Morgan nodded again.

"Yeah. She said that Marines had to wrestle control of the region from the Taliban."

"Yes," Justin said. "We did. Our last mission, we were supposed to be peace keeping. That's basically just the military's way of having boots on the ground without having to admit it. It eases the mind of the public, less protesting from the liberals."

Morgan nodded slowly, trying to figure out where he was going with this story.

"Anyway, our last mission, we'd been dispatched to backup a downed unit. Their convoy was hit by an IED and ambushed. They lost two gunners trying to defend themselves while they waited for us. We'd just reached the border of the town when they ambushed us too. EOD was clearing the road when they started firing on us from the East. My team was told to dismount and clear a compound on the ridge where we'd spotted gunfire."

Justin's eyes began to glaze over, his eyes darkening to a smoky gray. The stern look he used to wear when he'd first started working at the complex returned, and Morgan realized it was a mask. It was his war face, the one he used to hide the pain.

"They fired on us the whole time we ran up that hill. Bullets were flying everywhere, people were yelling orders to other vehicles on the radio. From behind the wall, I could see them as they hopped down -one after the other- from the ridge into the compound. They were trying to get to me, hoping that if I fell my men would lose focus and discipline; start scattering like ants and be easier to pick off. That was when I heard it."

"It?"

He nodded, his expression unchanging.

"First the explosion, when Chad's truck ran over an IED that EOD had failed to identify in the road. It was a big enough blast that all four tires lifted off the ground. Then, I heard the whistle as a rocket flew towards the vehicle. It hit so hard the fuckin thing nearly turned over. The blasts left a hole in the ground, like a meteor crater, and the side turned black from all the smoke. The damn truck had already been blown up from underneath, and they fired three fuckin rockets at it again, because they wanted to hurt them. They wanted to kill them. All of them. But I couldn't think about that. I couldn't help them. I was on the wall, yards away, and my men were looking at me to lead them. My two youngest guys were 18 years old, away from home for the first time in their lives, and they were looking at me. They were expecting me to make sure they didn't end up like the men in Chad's buffalo. So, when those Taliban cowards finally showed their faces - when they finally came at us, poking their heads up over that stupid wall - I shot them. I shot all of them. Even the ones that had been shot already, I shot them again just to be sure that they weren't ever getting up again. I emptied my entire clip on them, just to make sure. We killed all those men, did things God will probably never forgive us for."

Morgan inhaled, trying to process his words. She knew he was leaving out a lot of the finer details - thankfully - but it was still a lot to process. The gentle part of her that he loved so much was wrestling with what to say. Even if they were the enemy, they were still people with parents and wives and children. But, there was also another part of her - a part that empathized with him. When it came down to the enemy or you, you always chose 'you'. It wasn't like they would have taken pity on him if he's dropped his rifle and raised his hands in surrender. He did what he had to do, what he'd been trained and ordered to do.

"When we finally got back down to the convoy, EOD had only swept two sides of the vehicle, but I didn't care. I didn't even hear them telling me to stop, I just knew I had to get to my friend. When I opened the backdoor, a cloud of smoke came tumbling out and I couldn't see anything. The air smelled like blood and metal. All I could hear was the screaming. They were screaming from the pain, and the heat from the fire. Someone was screaming that he couldn't feel his legs, and another was pinned between sheets of metal, buried under rubble from the waist down. And Chad... Chad had been...."

Justin's voice began to quiver, and his eyes watered as he replayed the memory. Morgan reached out to touch him, but pulled her hand back. As much as she felt for him now, and as awake as he seemed to be, she couldn't help but wonder if the incident from his bedroom the week before would replay itself. Bashfully, she lowered her hand back into her lap.

"We had a memorial for Chad a couple days later, with his weapon and the one intact boot they could find. They say it helps with closure, and I guess sometimes it does. But no matter how many times I said goodbye to him, he never seemed to go away. I still see his face every day: in crowds at the mall, over my shoulder in a mirror. Every night when I close my eyes I hear his men screaming, see the spent shells all over the ground, smell the smoke and gun powder in the air. At night it's like that day happens over and over again. I have to kill those assholes over and over, every time I have to watch that Buffalo explode, and there's never anything I can do about it."

"Oh Justin," she breathed.

Her heart was aching in her chest, trying to imagine what it must have been like to be surrounded by such chaos and despair. She wouldn't have been able to survive watching her best friend die right before her eyes - let alone being charged with keeping order and routine in the midst of it. She wanted to continue talking and tell him she was sorry, but he raised a hand and halted her words.

"There's more."

Morgan's head cocked to the side.

"More?"

"I wanted to talk to you today because I need to tell you something. I'm leaving. I'm being deployed."

The words hit like a ton of bricks; the world slowed to a stop. The mindless chatter from neighbors outside went quiet. The chirping birds in the trees silenced. The sound of her own breathes seemed to echo on forever in the empty air around them. Then he scooted closer - their legs brushing - and took her hand. Justin had seen that look before on the faces of many military wives, girlfriends, and mothers - a look of total shock and devastation.

"Deployed? Where?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "They don't tell us that until we're en route. It's part of OPSEC."

"OPSEC?"

"Operational security. The less civilians know about military operations and the fewer details there are floating around, the harder it is for the enemy to get ahead of us."

"Okay," she heard herself say hesitantly. "When do you leave?"

He answered her with a shrug.

"OPSEC."

"How long will you be gone?"

Justin shook his head.

"I can't tell you. OP-."

"OPSEC," Morgan finished the word for him.

She wasn't entirely sure what Operational Security meant, but already she didn't like it.

"They'll active me 48 hours before departure, and once I'm deployed I can't tell you where I am until after the mission is complete."

"I won't know where you were until you come back?"

"No."

"Justin, you can trust me. I would never tell anyone where you are -."

"I know you wouldn't," he smiled softly. "But you never know who else is listening."

Her eyes looked away, focusing on one of the walls in the dining room. Justin was losing her, he could feel it. She was pulling away, preparing herself to let him go. He squeezed her hand between his fingers. He needed to reel her back in.

"Morgan, I told you all of this for a reason. Well, a reason beyond the fact that you deserved an explanation. I told you this because I need to know...."

His voice trailed off and his blue eyes were caste down. She waited on pins and needles for him to finish.

"Know what?"

Justin took a noticeably shaky breath.

"While I'm gone, I need to know what I'm going to come back too. I need to know that I'm coming back to you and Chloe. I need to know that you'll be here, and that this won't end when I leave. I need to know that you'll wait for me. I need to know that you're mine, Morgan, because I'm yours. Everything in me is all yours."

Morgan still held that glazed over look in her eye, this time her mind mulling over his words.

Wait for me. Wait for me.

"You want me to wait for you? When you don't even know how long you'll be gone? After all the things that happened last week?"

"I know it's a lot to ask," he rushed. "And I promise things are going to be different when I come back. I talked to an officer in another platoon. They're deploying with us, but he's out of my chain-of-command. He knows how to get me counseling and medication while I'm overseas, without risking my rank or my position in my platoon. He's going to help me, so when I come home again, I'll be different. I'll be better."

Morgan pulled her hand out of Justin's, trying to process all of the things he was saying. Fifteen minutes ago she'd been preparing herself for a break up. Now she was being told stories of loss and destruction, and asked to wait during an endless deployment. What universe was this?

Justin's eyes wildly searched her face, trying to trace Morgan's thoughts through her eyes. So many different emotions were moving across her face. Sadness. Confusion. Hurt. Fear. Worry.

"Morgan," he whispered.

Their eyes met, and Justin felt her look right into his soul. Dark brown eyes stood out against her mocha skin, the contrast more striking than usual due to her lack of makeup. The hair around her face fell in soft curls just under her chin. He felt every emotion she felt, everything she was keeping inside. He felt his pulse start to race, wondering if this was the last time he'd ever see her like this. Losing Chad had been hard enough, how would he be able to push through this deployment if he lost Morgan too?

"This will be the last time you have to hear me say I'm sorry," he told her.

"When I woke up the other night, the way you looked at me." He shook his head to himself. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you never look at me like that again. I want to be better for you, for me, and for Chloe. I will be better. Just promise me that you'll wait for me. Please, give me the chance to prove to you that I can be better."

He lowered his forehead to hers, listening to her breath. He wiped a clammy palm on the rough fabric of his pants, and reached for her hand again. He intertwined their finger and held the union against his chest, trying not to squeeze her fingers for dear life.

"I can't lose you, Morgan," he whispered. "You're the only woman I want to be with. You're the only thing that's important to me. You and Chloe are all I have. Please, wait for me."

He felt her pull her hand away again, and his eyelids squeezed together painfully. He guessed his apology had come too late, and that all this had been too much for her to handle. Who could blame her? A mentally screwed up Marine about to disappear for who knows how long and couldn't offer anything more than a mere promise that he'd get better? Yeah, he wouldn't bother waiting either if he was in her shoes.

A warm hand landed on his face, gently caressing his cheek. Morgan's voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke.

"Okay."

Unsure of what he'd heard, Justin's eyes opened. She was looking back at him, her orbs just inches from his face. While they still held confused and pain, they also shimmered brightly in the beams of sunlight coming in through the windows. Her full lips were curved into a small, nervous smile.

"I will," she said. "I will wait for you, Justin."

Relief flooded over him like a tidal wave, every sore muscle in his body relaxing.Both her hands held his face, and he savored hearing her say the words again.

"I'll wait for you."

His arms encircled her waist, practically pulling her into his lap. His face buried into the curve between her neck and shoulder, and he inhaled vanilla. This time Morgan didn't pull away from him, and he snuggled deeper into her embrace. In that moment, he knew; he knew everything he needed too. He knew that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he knew that he was more in love with her than he'd ever been with anyone else in his entire life.

One last time she leaned away from him, only barely enough to look into his eyes. She ran a hand over the tiny hairs on the back of his neck, and then smoothed her fingers over the back of his camouflage jacket.

"You better make good on every promise you made me, Serge. Do you hear me? Every. Single. One."

Justin nodded adamantly.

"Yes ma'am," he said.

Justin stared straight ahead through the windshield as the beat of the music on the radio vibrated the front speakers of his car. He turned his head to the right, looking through the passenger window as an energetic Chloe came bouncing past the double doors of her school, Morgan following closely behind with a pink backpack over her shoulder. He hit the unlock button and turned down the volume as Chloe bolted to his car, waving enthusiastically as she pulled the heavy back door open.

“Mr. Justin!” She shouted with joy as she climbed into the booster seat that Justin had purchased for his own car - much to Morgan’s surprise.

"Hey kiddo,” he smiled, looking back at her as she pulled her seat belt across her chest and into its buckle.

Morgan climbed into the front seat once she saw that Chloe had settled into the back. She looked over at Justin with a soft smile.

She was nervous, almost as nervous as he was.

They both had decided that today would be the day they would tell Chloe of his pending departure. Since the exact date of his deployment was unknown, they wanted to tell her early, so that when the time came it wasn't such an overwhelming surprise. Justin thought he'd gotten the hard part over with when he told Morgan, but he never imagined it would be even harder telling Chloe. Trying to tell a child that he'd bonded so much with that he was leaving and didn’t know when he was going to be back was reviving the same difficult emotions over again, but with much more intensity because Chloe wouldn't be able to understand the way Morgan did.

Morgan remained silent, staring out the window for most of the ride home while Justin and Chloe had a conversation about her day at school. Her chest was beginning to ache for Chloe, and she rubbed her fingers over her chest. Morgan knew how hard it had been for her to take in the news once Justin and Chloe had gone to bed. She snuck into the living room and laid down on the sofa cushion where Justin's scent still lingered as tears rolling down her face. Now her heart ached all over again. Chloe was going to have to say goodbye to another important male role model in her life.

It had been hard on them both when Morgan finally decided to leave Devon. Chloe had cried out for Devon for days on end and continuously asked questions about why this was happening. Morgan did her best to explain as simply and easy as she could, but it still didn’t ease Chloe's tears. It made her even more confused, because she just couldn’t understand why her Daddy wasn’t coming home to her every night. But, as the months passed and Devon's visits became less and less frequent, Chloe finally started on a path back to her normal self. Then Justin came along and became a trusted male-figure in both their lives, only to be called to duty and have to leave. How long would it take them to get back to normal this time?

Morgan took a deep breath when she felt Justin’s hand cover hers as it laid on top of her thigh. His fingers intertwined with hers and gave a squeeze. She looked over to him and he smiled reassuringly back at her. Then his lips moved, and she realized he was saying something.

“Huh?” She questioned.

That's what she got for being off in her own little world. She had no idea what was going on in the conversation.

“Mommy, Mr. Justin said he's going to take us to dinner. We want tacos!” Chloe yelled from the back seat.

Morgan smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"I guess tacos it is.”

“Yay!”

Twenty minutes later they found themselves seated in a booth at a local family-owned Mexican restaurant. The air was filled with music from a live mariachi band in the corner, while red, yellow, and green decorations hung down from the ceiling. Chloe sat next to Justin on one side while Morgan occupied the other. The little girl dig into the free salsa and chips, wiggling around on the bench with every bite. She was totally oblivious to the anxiety and nervousness that lingered between Justin and Morgan. Justin found himself unable to keep his knee from bouncing up and down while Morgan fidgeted on the bench across from him, twisting her straw wrapper between her fingers.

"Mr. Justin?”

Justin looked over to Chloe as he nibbled at a chip.

"Yes?”

“Are you and my Mommy boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Morgan choked on her margarita as Justin felt a wave of heat raise up his back. He raised an eyebrow, giving Morgan a quick glance.

"What do you know about boyfriends and girlfriends?”

“My friend Jillian at school said her Mommy got a new boyfriend.”

“And, what is a boyfriend?” Morgan asked curiously.

What could Chloe possibly know about relationship titles?

Chloe stuffed a chip in her mouth and shrugged.

"She said he’s like her new Daddy, but not her real Daddy. He's a new Daddy because her real Daddy was always mean to her Mommy and made her sad. So he went away, and now there's a new Daddy who makes her Mommy happy.”

Morgan stood corrected. Apparently Chloe was old enough to know a fair amount about the basics of relationships. Justin chuckled to himself, leaning over to whisper into Chloe's ear.

"Yes, your Mommy is my girlfriend. In fact, she's my most favorite girlfriend ever."

Chloe smiled brightly, holding back a small giggle and reaching for another chip.

“Well, I think you're too young to worry about boyfriend and girlfriend things,” Morgan inserted quickly, wanting to end the conversation.

Knowing Chloe, now that she had an answer to one question she would follow up with a million more. Those were details Morgan didn't want to get into.

Their meal came shortly after, and they made small talk with Chloe, trying to lighten the mood and take their minds off the important conversation coming later when they went home.

After finishing their food they went out for ice cream and a short visit to a small park before heading to Morgan’s apartment. It was getting late, and Morgan immediately gave Chloe a bath and changed for bed. Justin sat in the living room while they shuffled around in the other room. His eyes scanned the room, taking it all in. Many of Chloe’s toys were spread all over: books, markers, Barbie dolls, and educational tools. He could hear her small voice singing Barney's 'I love you' song to her mother while they dried her hair with a large bath towel.

It was refreshing, seeing things from a young child’s point of view. Even though Morgan spent a large amount of time murmuring to herself about bills, her job, and issues with Devon; Chloe was completely in her own world where she and Morgan were completely happy, content, and without a care in the world because she knew Morgan would always be there for her. She never had to worry about her Mommy leaving. It was probably the farthest thing from her mind - if it was even on her mind at all.

Justin had never imagined himself being in a relationship with anyone because of all the issues he was having. Really, he hadn't even planned on seriously dating until after he was retired from the Armed Forces - let alone being with a woman who had a daughter.

But here he was sitting on the couch in the middle of his girlfriend’s living room while she prepared her daughter for bed, and it was making his heart beat harder and stronger than ever before.

He loved Morgan.

He loved Chloe.

He loved them together. Overnight they'd become his family.

Immediately regret started to sink in. He wondered if this was how some of his men felt when they were leaving their women and children behind for the first time. It hurt deeply because in all reality he didn’t know if he was coming back in one piece, or if he was even coming back at all. The thought of Morgan sitting front row at his funeral with Chloe by her side as a gun salute when off in his honor made his eyes teary. He could only imagine the look in Morgan's eyes as she sat there in all black, thinking of how they'd never send text messages or spend sleepless nights in bed together again. She'd already had one man leave her, and as tough as she was, human beings could only take so much.

Justin had just wiped his sleeve across his forehead, soaking up the sweat he'd felt trailing down on to his temples, when Chloe came bouncing down the hallway wearing a long Snow White nightgown and Rubber Ducky slippers.

"I’m all finished!” She announced, skipping over to him and climbing onto the couch.

“You sure?” Justin asked.

He lifted her arm, pretending like he was going to sniff her underarm to inspect, only to reach out and tickle her instead. She squealed in delight.

"Yes, yes , yes!” She screamed, trying to back away from him.

“Yeah, I guess so. You smell squeaky clean," he smiled.

When his torturing stopped she curled up beside him and pulled his arm around her while Morgan slide in a DVD of The Lion King and turned on the TV. Then she made her way over to the sofa and sat down on the other side of Chloe, sandwiching the kid in the middle. She looked up at Justin and nodded. It was time.

"Chloe, honey, before we start the movie Justin and I need to talk to you about something.”

Chloe sat up, Justin’s arm still around her shoulders, and looked back and forth between them. Justin cleared his throat and took several deep breaths while Morgan held hers.

"Chloe, do you remember when I told you about my job as a Marine?”

She nodded.

“You know how I told you that sometimes we go on long trips to protect America from bad guys?”

She nodded once more, rubbing her eyes with a small fist.

Justin shifted slightly in his seat so he could get a better look at her.

"Well, I was asked to go on one of those long trips again. I have to leave in a couple weeks.”

Chloe grinned wildly, jumping up onto her knees.

"Can I go too? Can me and Mommy go? Mommy?! Can we go?”

Morgan ran her fingers over Chloe's hair with a soft smile, then shook her head.

"No, honey, we can’t go.”

Chloe frowned and looked back up at Justin.

"Why can't we go? I want to go on the trips and see different places.”

“I can’t take you with me, because it’s a part of my job. We go over there and try to make peace with the bad guys. Sometimes we have to arrest them and put them in jail, and it can get very dangerous. I wouldn’t want you or your Mommy to get hurt.”

Chloe sighed deeply.

"Okay. How long are you going to be gone? Two days? Cause two days is a long time. I have to sleep twice before I see you.”

Justin shook his head.

"No, princess. It’s much longer than two days. So long that I don’t even know exactly. But, I'll come back as soon as I can.”

Chloe blinked in confusion and looked at her Mom, then she turned her eyes back to Justin.

"You're leaving?”

“Yes, to go to work. But, as soon as I'm done I'll be back.”

“When?”

Justin rubbed her shoulder.

"I don’t know.”

“It's for a long time?”

Justin nodded.

"Yes."

She frowned.

"But it will only seem like that as first," he said. "Then time will start to go by faster, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Chloe's frown only seemed to deepen, and she looked down at her hands.

“My friend Michael’s Daddy had a job like yours, and he hasn’t seen his Daddy in forever. His Mommy said he went on a long, long vacation and that someday they will join him. Marissa said Michael’s Daddy went to see his grandma in Heaven. My Mommy said Heaven is where nice people go when they die. Are you dying Mr. Justin?”

Morgan bit down on her bottom lip, trying to suppress her emotions.

"No, he's not dying, Chloe. He's going to come back, aren’t you, Justin?”

Justin looked at both of them. Two sets of teary eyes were looking at him expectantly, and his heart began to pound so loud it echoed in his ears.

“Of course I am.”

“But if you go then you'll die,” Chloe said in a whisper.

The room fell heavy and silent until the child spoke again.

"Are you leaving cause you don’t like us anymore?”

Justin frowned heavily.

"Of course not. I love being with you two.”

“Daddy said he loved me, but he left.”

Justin slid from the edge of the couch and knelt down in front Chloe as a large teardrop rolled down her puffy cheek.

"I am not leaving you because I don’t like you. You and your Mommy are my favorite people to hang out with. Remember, what I told you at dinner? I just have to go and do my job for a while. Then as soon as it's done I will be back home for good. And I won't die. I'm too cool to die.”

He ended his sentence with a wink, hoping she would giggle at him. She didn't. Instead, tears started a steady flow down her face.

"Who's going to protect us from Daddy? What if he hurts Mommy again?”

Morgan subconsciously raised a hand to her neck as she tried hard to retain her composure. Justin lowered his head for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. The situation between himself, Morgan, and Devon was far too adult and complicated for Chloe to fully understand, but it was obviously a situation that worried her little mind. How do you reassure a child about adult situations? Finally he gently took Chloe’s hands in his and spoke sternly.

"He will never hurt your Mommy ever again. I promise. When I come back I will take you both away and you won’t ever have to worry about him again.”

Chloe finally broke into heavy sobs and leaned forward to fling her arms around Justin’s neck.

"Please don’t go Mr. Justin. Please, please, please.”

Justin let out a heavy sigh, tightly wrapping his arms around her little body. Her thin bony limbs encircled him, almost like she was trying to climb into his chest so she could be with him all the time. He got up from his knees and slipped back onto the couch, Chloe in his lap. He held out one arm, motioning for Morgan to come closer. She eagerly collapsed against his side, her head on one shoulder and Chloe's on the other as they both sobbed quietly. He hated that he'd caused so much pain in the past couple of days. He held them as tightly as he could, giving each girl a kiss on the head. Then Justin closed his own eyes and leaned back into the pillows when fresh tears started to burn the back of his eyes.

It was late on Tuesday evening, and Morgan sat at the dining table with her laptop, a Google search populated with the names and phone numbers of local family practice lawyers open on the screen. She hadn't heard from Devon since he'd stalked her at work, and she was hoping it would stay that way. But, she still wanted to be prepared in case he reared his head again. Staying up on her legal matters also provided an opportunity for distraction from the other set of problems that had been keeping her up late recently.

More than a week had passed since Morgan and Justin's Mexican dinner with Chloe. While the news had been hard for Chloe to take that first night, she seemed to be back to her normal self the next morning - especially when she saw that he was still there when she woke up. He'd taken her to school while Morgan headed to work, and things returned to normal, or as normal as normal could be.

Morgan would be lying if she said she hadn't noticed changes in Justin over the past week. His unit had started a strenuous training schedule which often pulled him away from his night shifts at the apartment complex. Their text conversations were much shorter and more inconsistent that she was accustomed too. He hadn't even left yet, but it seemed like he was already pulling away from them. Part of her started to wonder what she'd gotten herself into. It'd been a little less than two weeks since she'd found out he was leaving, and already she felt an empty, sinking feeling in her heart. Could she really survive weeks, months, even a year of this? How did military couples do this for decades on end?

Maybe waiting for him hadn't been the best idea. But, at the same time she couldn't imagine herself saying goodbye to him, or being interested in any other man. Even if she wasn't 'officially' waiting for him, she knew that deep down inside she always would be. He was perfect - perfectly flawed for her - and saw potential in all her shortcomings. It wasn't ever day that you met someone who could see your heart even more clearly than you could see it yourself.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed on the table next to her laptop, and she looked down to see Justin's name.

"Just got the call," he'd written. "Thursday night at 6pm."

Morgan chewed on her lip, not sure what to say. What did you say when the man you were in love with gave you 48 hours notice? Great? Cool? Okie dokie? Sounds good? Somehow, nothing seemed appropriate, so she sent back a sad face emoticon.

She set the phone down and ran a hand over her face. Reality was quickly sinking in, and it was almost too much to handle. This time, two days from now, he'd be God-knows-where doing God-knows-what. How long would it be before he could call her? Where was he going? How was she going to occupy her free time without him? Would things between them be the same when he came back? How long would it be before she got to look into those blue eyes again? What if he came home even more screwed up than he was when he left?

It was too much - much too much. Her mind seemed to be swirling with a trillion thoughts, each one tumbling over another. The Google logo at the top of the page seemed to glow, and she clicked on it, opening a new page. There were other men in Justin's unit: Billingsley, Wilson, Perri, Michaels, Stonewall. Each of them had wives, girlfriends, children, parents and other family members waiting at home. She wasn't the only girl in the world dealing with these feelings, so how was everyone else coping?

She typed 'military girlfriend support' into the search bar, and the white screen was instantly flooded with links. There were t-shirts, key chains, Tumblr accounts, Twitter posts, articles, memes, and YouTube videos. Every link led to a blog or website by a woman who was currently missing someone that had been deployed. From all those pages, there were a dozen more links, leading to more and more girls who were missing half of their hearts. They called themselves milsos - a term completely foreign to Morgan's vocabulary.

"The MilSO life is like Narnia," one post read. "It's a whole nother world you didn't even know existed until you're in it."

That idea turned out to be one of the truest statements Morgan had heard in a long time.

Laced within the search results there were multiple groups for military significant others in general, and groups catering to each specific branch of the military. Beyond that there were articles on how to help your children adjust to the troops' departure, and an entire website detailing how to make elaborately themed care-packages and what items to include inside. On the next page Morgan found printable checklists of things she and Justin needed to do to prepare their relationship for his absence, and a pamphlet about the emotional changes troops go through when being groomed to deploy.

The psychologist who'd authored it explained that the additional hours they spent together training on base not only gave them the opportunity to practice maneuvers, but it also helped to bring them together as a unit. Once deployed they needed to work together and trust each other. The bonds they'd need in order to be able to successfully carry out missions in the future was being formed now. It suddenly made more sense to Morgan why he'd been pulling away from her. It wasn't intentional, it was just something he needed to do to survive.

He truly was transitioning from his normal self into SSgt. Timberlake.

Her phone buzzed on the table top again, and Justin's name lit up the screen.

He had replied to her sad face with a frown and said he'd come over tomorrow evening after saying goodbye to his folks. That made part of her feel better, knowing that she'd see him at least one more time. But, the split second of happiness was followed by a long moment of angst when she realized it would be the last night they'd spend together. What if it was their very last night forever?

Morgan's eyes looked to the screen again, seeing a link titled A Military Spouses Prayer. Curiosity made her click, and a page created by a 30-something Army wife and part-time single mother opened. As her eyes read the words, a blanket of comfort seemed to fall over her for the first time since Justin had broken the news many days ago.

Dear Lord, give me the greatness of heart to see the difference between duty and his love for me. Give me understanding that I may know, when duty calls him he must go. Give me a task to do each day, to fill the time when he's away. When he's in a foreign land, keep him safe in your loving hand. And when duty is in the field, please protect him and be his shield. And Lord, when deployment is so long, please stay with me and keep me strong. Amen.

Below it was a list of songs entitled A Milso's Playlist.

Scrolling down the list there were more than one hundred songs, including If It's Love by Train, A Thousand Years by Christina Perri, American Soldier by Toby Keith, Ass Back Home by Gym Class Heroes, Worldwide by Big Time Rush, and Here Without You by 3 Doors Down. There seemed to be selections from every genre of music possible, each written with the idea of missing someone who was special in your life.

"These songs always help cheer me up when I'm having a hard time missing him," the blogger said. "Hope they bring you some comfort too."

Morgan leaned back in the chair, reading over the prayer again. It was a poor substitute for having Justin physically here with her, but suddenly she didn't feel quite so alone without him.

“Chloe, put on your shoes, please. We have to go.”

“No!” Chloe shouted.

She was sitting in front of the TV, watching her morning cartoons. Morgan stood behind her daughter with her arms folded over her chest. That was the fourth time she'd nicely asked Chloe to put her shoes on, and it was the fourth time Chloe had flat out refused. Now this temper tantrum was about make them both late. Morgan still had to drop Chloe off before she could head to work. She was having enough problems with her boss, the last thing she needed was to be late for her shift.

“Chloe, put your shoes on right now!”

Morgan raised her voice sternly, causing Chloe to shrink down and sigh. Then she snatched her shoes from the floor beside her and proceed to roughly yank them onto her feet. Chloe had been giving her a hard time all morning, but not without good reason. It was the morning of Justin’s deployment, and both girls were on the edge.

Morgan was more than sleep deprived, since she'd spent most of Wednesday night being intimate with Justin and the rest of the evening laying on the pillow next to him staring at his face. They'd tried to memorize every feature of each other’s bodies, not wanting morning to come.

She was exhausted from sex, talking, sex, talking, more sex and more talking. When he'd finally fallen asleep there had been tears - many, many tears. She was completely overwhelmed with emotions, but many of the articles and posts she'd read online said that it was important that she keep her composure in front of Justin. If he knew that she was struggling without him it would only weigh on his mind and cause a distraction, leading to injuries and mistakes in the field. He had to see that she could be strong without him, so he could keep his head in the game and come home safe.

But, as hard as it was for Morgan, it was an even more difficult watching her child try to work through her feelings. If Morgan wasn’t secretly crying by herself, she was holding Chloe while she cried. Now Chloe was angry, and had been throwing fits all morning since the moment she'd woken up. Morgan tried her best not to fuss at her, but Chloe's refusal to cooperate was making that nearly impossible. If Morgan wasn't being stern then Chloe wouldn’t respond.

"Now, get your backpack and let’s go.”

Chloe jumped to her feet, glaring up at her Mom with an attitude. Then she grabbed her backpack from the couch and flung it over her shoulder, stomping her way to the door. Morgan took a deep breath and turned the TV off, following a stomping Chloe out the door and down the walkway.

The car ride to school was quiet, except for a soft rattling in the back as Chloe purposely kicked the passenger seat repeatedly, causing Morgan to fuss once more. She knew today was not going to be an easy day for either of them, but Morgan had to draw a line with her daughter's behavior. Being upset was understandable, acting out was another.

When Morgan pulled up to the curb in front of the school she got out and helped Chloe gather her things.

"Okay, I need you to talk yourself to class because Mommy's late. You try and have a good day today, okay? Cut the attitude. I know you are upset, but you have to try and be sweet.”

“I don’t want to go to school. I want to go see Justin.”

Morgan sighed, rubbing her face and kneeling down.

"You will see him as soon as you get out of school. Mommy is getting off early so we can go see him before he leaves.”

Chloe sniffled as she folded her arms over her chest.

"But I don’t want to go to school. I want to see Justinnn!!”

Morgan shook her head.

"Chloe, that’s enough. I said we will see him after school and that’s all there is too it. Now get in there and go to class.”

The little girl grumbled under her breath and turned on her heels, stomping away. Morgan watched as she went into the building and took a deep breath. She wished Chloe's teacher good luck and extra patience - she was going to need it. Then she got back into her car and headed to work.

Once she finally arrived and settled in Morgan busied herself with unloading clothes from the new shipment they'd received over night. She was trying to keep her mind occupied so she wouldn’t think about tonight, but one way or another it kept creeping back into her mind. She imagined their final goodbyes over and over again. What would she say? What would he say - or leave unsaid? Every time she thought of it her heart fluttered and her stomach twisted into a knot.

“Morgan, you have a telephone call," one of her co-workers mentioned as she whizzed by with an arm full of clothes on plastic hangers.

It pulled Morgan from her daydreams, and she placed her own arm full of clothes on an empty rack before walking to the desk and grabbing the receiver.

"Hello?”

“Hi, is this Ms. Andrews?”

Morgan pushed up the sleeves of her cardigan as she pressed the phone to her ear.

"Yes, this is she.”

“Hello Ms. Andrews, this is Linda Moore, the guidance counselor at Ridgewood Elementary school. I have Chloe here in my office, she had a little incidence here at the school.”

Morgan frowned as she began to worry.

"What happened?”

“Well, Chloe got into a fight with one of her classmates today. They wanted to use the same set of markers during class, and she gave him a little bit of a bloody lip. She seems to be very upset, but refuses to talk to anyone. Because of the altercation we have to send her home for the day. Is there is any way that you can come get her?”

Morgan pinched the bridge of her nose out of growing frustration. It wasn't even 10am, Chloe had only been at school for two hours.

"Well, I’m at work right now, but I can have someone pick her up if that’s alright.”

“Yes ma’am, absolutely. If you could just give me the name of the person and their number I'll give it to the front office and they can pick her up from there.”

“Alright.”

Morgan gave the counselor the information before hanging up the phone. Then she walked to the back of the store and into the mini break room where she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Justin’s number.

“Hello?”

“Hey Serge, it's me.”

“Hey babe. You at work? What’s wrong?” He questioned.

He always knew when something was going on with her. It was in her voice. She sighed into the phone and sat down on in a green plastic chair. They'd been trading texts off and on all morning. He was aware of Chloe’s fit.

"Yeah, I’m at work. I just got a call from someone at the school, and they said little Miss Chloe got into a fight today and gave someone a bloody lip.”

“Oh wow," he laughed. "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, huh?"

Morgan rolled her eyes and continued.

“They have to send her home for the day. I can't leave work because my manager is still a little hot about the Devon thing. I was wondering, if you have time do you mind swinging by and getting her and I'll just meet up with you two later? I know you're packing all day, but -.”

“Of course," he interrupted. "Consider it done. I’m on my way.”

"Thanks. I'll see you in a few hours."

Justin exited the Audi and he made his way into the school. As he passed through the doors he pulled the hat from his head and brushed off the front of his uniform. It was a little dusty from running ops the day before, and he hoped he still looked presentable. He was planning on washing it this afternoon before shipping out, but hadn't had time to get to it yet.

His boots echoed through the empty halls of the elementary school, and he followed the signs hanging from the ceiling directing him to the office. When he pushed open the door Chloe was sitting on a yellow chair in the corner with her back pack on her lap, her arms wrapped around it, and her legs swinging back and forth.

She stopped burning a hole into the floor with her eyes and looked up as he entered. Instantly her back straightened and she sat up, watching Justin as he approached the secretary. He threw Chloe a discreet wink before turning to the person behind the desk: a frizzy dark-haired woman smiling up at him from behind thin glasses.

"Hello, how may I help you?”

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Chloe Andrews.”

She looked down over her papers.

"Oh, you must be Mr. Justin Timberlake. Do you mind if I see an ID?”

He nodded and pulled his wallet from his pocket, retrieving his military ID and handing it over. She inspected it, and handed it back.

"Okay. If you would just sign her out on this clipboard please, she's all yours.”

Justin nodded, quickly scribbling his name.

"Alright, Chloe, you are free to go, darling. I hope you have a better attitude tomorrow, honey. You two have a nice day.”

Justin gave her a smile before turning to Chloe. She slid out of her chair and slowly walked over to Justin as he peered down at her. He held out his hand without saying a word, and she latched onto his finger as they walked out the office. As soon as they entered the hall a bell rang and kids started to file out of classrooms, a sea of rainbow colored lunchboxes in their hands. Justin guessed it was lunch time, and he could smell the scent of chicken wafting down the hall from the cafeteria.

Chloe held Justin’s hand tightly as they made their way past the other kids. They were moving to the side, eyeing his uniform as he walked by. To them he was some kind of superhero come to life - a real life army man who did all the things they saw on their video games for real. Chloe felt like all was right in the world as she walked alongside him. This was the Mr. Justin she knew, and had grown to trust. As they approached the exit Chloe heard her name being called by a group of kids from her class.

"Hey, Chloe, where you going?”

“Home," she called back.

"Who is that man?” They asked.

She subconsciously squeezed Justin’s hand as he pushed open the doors that lead outside and turned her head to answer over her shoulder.

"He's my Daddy.”

Justin had been listening to every word she'd said, and he reached down to scoop her up as they approached the front steps. He couldn’t help put give her a squeeze as a grin passed over his face.

Morgan stood outside of Justin’s apartment, listening as he turned the locks and pulled open the door. He smiled and stepped aside to let her in, stealing a kiss from her puckered lips as she passed.

"How is she?” She asked.

Morgan headed straight for the living room, pausing when she found Chloe stretched out on his couch sound asleep.

“She’s fine,” he replied, walking up behind her and pulling her purse from her shoulder. "We got some lunch, watched a movie, and she passed out while I finished packing."

He set the bag on the dining table, hearing her sigh with relief at the unexpected removal of the heavy item. His hands massaged her shoulders gently and she slowly turned to look at him, taking in his green cammies.

This was it. Today was the day.

He reached for her, taking her face into his hands and kissing her lips lightly before wrapping his arms around her warm body. She sighed into his chest and held onto him, that unique scent of his filled her lungs. They stood there in the middle of the living room, holding each other in silence. His hands started to glide up and down her back, and her fingers dug into the fabric of his uniform.

Morgan began to tremble a bit with every breath she took, and his arms tightened in response. Justin dug his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp. He kissed her forehead lightly, smelling the scent of warm vanilla. That was probably going to be the thing he missed most about her, that beautiful brown skin. It was soft, and smelled amazing, and always gave off a subtle glow.

"I don't want you to go," she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

"I know," he told her, releasing his grip a little. "I wish I didn't have too. But when duty calls-."

"You must go."

"Exactly," he said.

She felt his fingers comb through her hair once again, and lips planted a kiss on her forehead.

"So, what do you want to do while the little monster is asleep?"

"Well," he started.

His grin was menacing, and she knew then that she was in trouble. The familiar tingles of excitement, arousal, and anticipation started to creep over her.

"We still have a few hours before I have to report. We could go in my room and play a round of Bash the Beaver."

"Seriously? Bash the -- you know what, I'm not even going to ask where you heard that," Morgan shook her head.

Justin laughed along with her.

"Yeah, you probably shouldn't."

"You're not tired after all that 'fun' last night?"

"Well, yeah, I'm tired," he admitted. "But I could always sleep on the plane. I can only have you while I'm here, so I've got to get my fill while I can."

"And you're not full yet?"

"Of you?" He snorted. "Never."

Morgan smiled coyly, a deep red blush rising in her cheeks. With one hand she reached up to undo the top button on his uniform. He had a good point: he was leaving indefinitely in just a few hours, so what was one or two more hours in bed going to hurt? Justin grinned as well, leaning down to pull her into a kiss as his body slowly backed her into his bedroom where the door shut clicked behind them.

The sun was sitting blindingly low on the hills, just behind the administration building on base. It was past 5:30pm, and would be dark before too long. They'd taken Morgan's car there, Chloe eager to show off the new spotless white paint job. Justin drove, since he knew the route better, and found an empty spot off to the side. The parking lot was flooded with mini vans and compact cars as families gathered to send their Marines off. A silver van parked in the back of the lot had jackets covering the windows, and was rocking back and forth - a Marine enjoying one last encounter with his significant other before shipping out. Chloe asked what was happening inside, and Morgan asked her if she wanted a piece of gum in order to change the subject.

The usually talkative threesome exited the car slowly, trying to make each second stretch longer than the last. Most families were keeping to themselves, trying to find a quiet spot to spend their last few moments. Goodbyes were the hardest part of this lifestyle. No matter how early you started, there never seemed to be enough time. It was the first time for Morgan and Chloe, and Morgan felt like she still needed weeks to adjust where there were only minutes left.

Justin pulled his bags from the trunk of the car and lead them over a spot on the grass, off to the side from the rest of the men. He set this things on the ground, looking around at the rest of the men.

"Looks like everyone's here," he said to himself. "We'll be loading up soon."

"Where do you go from here?" Morgan asked.

"We'll head to the airport, take a civilian flight down to Pendleton, then hop a military jet out of here."

"To where?"

He smiled, a glimpse of the sheepish boy he'd been as a kid coming through for just a moment. Morgan was too caught up in his looks to care that she'd failed in her meager attempt to trick him into telling her where he was going.

"Hey, Serge!"

They all turned to look when they heard the voice in the distance. Wilson was there, waving an arm in the air as Elaine hugged his side and April latched onto his leg.

"You ready?"

"Almost!" Justin called back.

Wilson nodded, hugging Elaine again before calling Billingsley over and heading toward the busses. Justin could only guess what they were talking about since they kept glancing back at him over their shoulders while they walked. Whatever they were saying, he was just glad they couldn't rag on him about being picked-up and dropped off by his Dad anymore.

Turning back to his girls, his heart sank when he saw their gloomy faces. They looked like he'd just run over a puppy or popped the last balloon at a birthday party. Justin knelt down on one knee, lowering his head to look Chloe in the eye. She glanced up at him briefly, through thick black lashes.

"I'll see you in a little while," he told her. "And when I come back, I'll bring you a surprise."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I'll be back in no time."

Her sad face nodded.

"Bye Daddy."

Chloe stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. He heard Morgan draw in a surprised gasp. She hadn't heard Chloe use the sentiment toward Justin before.

"Not goodbye," he shook his head. "It's 'see you soon'."

"I love you, Dad."

"Love you too, baby girl."

Even though Morgan knew Justin had been playing the role of a Father, she hadn't realized until now that Chloe thought so much of him. Morgan buried her face in her hands, trying to hide the tears falling from her eyes. Her little girl finally had the Daddy she deserved - one she loved, and who loved her back just as much.

Justin saw Morgan turn her back, and her shoulders shake with sobs. He hated to see that he was the cause of so much worry for them. More than once he'd wondered if maybe it was best to break it off with Morgan, but he couldn’t imagine her with anyone else or some other guy around Chloe. They'd transformed every element of his life. He had a reason to come back home, a reason to stay alive, a reason to enjoy life, and a deeper reason for serving his country.

He let Chloe hug him for as long as she wanted, until her arms grew tired and she pulled away from him. Then he gave her a kiss on the cheek, she gave him one back, and he stood up to look at Morgan.

She couldn't speak, didn't even know where to begin. So many feelings were bubbling to the surface, she was afraid that if she opened her mouth she would scream, burst into tears, or any number of other inappropriate actions. Instead, she repeated her daughters actions, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug.

"I'm going to miss you so much," he whispered into her hair.

"I'm gonna miss you too. Who's going to keep me up past my bedtime every night?"

She felt him laugh, his chest vibrating against hers.

"I'm sure Char is anxious to have you back to herself."

He felt her laugh too, and laid a kiss on the side of her head.

"No matter what happens from this moment on, I want you to know that you and Chloe were the best things that ever happened to me," he whispered. "Always remember that. I've never regretting spending a single moment with you, bad or good. Okay?"

She nodded against his chest.

"Okay."

Justin tilted her head back, and pushed the hair from her face so he could see her clearly.

"Did I ever tell you about the mottos?"

Morgan's brow furrowed, and her expression grew curious. That was another thing he was going to miss about her - the way her thoughts radiated out of her eyes.

"No, what mottos?"

"Every branch has a motto that they live by, whenever two lovers are apart. The Army has Army Strong. That's creative, right? They were obviously thinking out of the box with that." He rolled his eyes, signaling his sarcasm. "Air Force relationships go by Above All. And, the Navy? They live by Ocean Deep. But, the Marine Corps has the best of all: Semper Fi. Always faithful. That's us, Morgan. Our love is Semper Fi."

A tear threaten to trickle down her face once more as she struggled not to cry. She was a Marine girlfriend now, she had to be strong. It broke Justin's heart every time she shed a tear, and he knew that she was trying to hold up a tough front for him. They were two birds of a feather, able to see through each other's poker faces.

He kissed her damp cheek, tasting the saltiness of her tears, and then kissed her lips. He couldn't break down in front of his men and superiors, but he wanted her to feel that he was going to miss her just as much as she was going to miss him - maybe even more. So he kissed her again, and again. Then he pulled back, and looked her right in the eye.

"I love you," he said. "I. Love. You."

His words were firm and sure, his eyes boring into hers. He'd never spoken those words to Morgan before, hadn't said them to any woman in a very long time.

"I love you too," she whispered.

She held onto him with a growing sense of desperation starting to course through her veins. Morgan’s legs grew weak underneath her, threatening to buckle, but Justin wrapped his arms around the small of her waist steadying her against him. He nearly took her very breath as he kissed her one last time. She almost grew light headed from the pressure.

"Twenty-third, load up!"

The voice of the deploying commanding officer, Major Roark echoed through the air.

Justin pulled back from her and gazed into her eyes. He was going to miss those eyes, and she was going to miss that handsome face. His look had been soft and nostalgic, then a flash of recognition washed over him.

"Oops, I almost forgot."

Justin reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver key ring. It held a large black key with buttons on it, a regular gold house key, and a tiny silver key. He took Morgan's hand, placing the ring in her palm and closing her fingers around it.

"The key to my car, the key to my place, and the key to the gun case on the top shelf in the closet. Use whatever you need, whenever you need it. I won't ask questions."

Morgan nodded.

"Okay."

She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back before letting go and stepping away. If he didn't let go of her now he never would.

"I'll see you soon."

"See you soon, Serge."

He smiled down at Chloe again, then without another word he slung his backpack over his shoulder, picked up his duffle, and walked off toward the waiting busses. Morgan's mind flashed back to the first time she'd seen him walking across the lawn at the apartment complex. Rigid back, head high, all serious business. She never would have guessed back then that she'd be here now, feeling like a completely different woman. It was amazing what a difference a few months could make when you meet someone spectacular - someone who made you realize that all the bullshit you went through before was worth it because in the end it brought you to their door.

Through the bus windows Morgan could see Billingsley and Wilson, shoving each other back and forth out of the way as they waved goodbye to their families. Elaine was at the front of the family crowd, pressing herself against the guard rails to blow kisses at her husband.

"Mommy?"

A tiny voice pulled Morgan from her own thoughts, and she reached down to pick up Chloe. Together they watched as Justin climbed the steps onto the first bus, followed by Maj. Roark, and the doors closed behind them. A moment later the busses started to pull away, heading toward the airport.

"Mommy, Daddy's coming back, right?"

Morgan turned to look into her daughter's big brown eyes, and tried her best to smile past the pain.

"Yes baby, Daddy's coming back."

To her right, Chloe was engrossed with her iPod, the volume turned up so loud Morgan could hear the faint words echoing in the air. Chloe was a grown-up seven-almost-eight year old now, with a sassy, know-it-all attitude. All Chloe wanted to do was listen to music, play on the computer, and hang out with her newfound friends in the complex. Morgan now knew what her Mom meant when she'd said, "I hope you grow up to have a daughter just like you." A year ago Morgan and Princess Bell had been Chloe's best friends, now, it was embarrassing even to get a kiss on the cheek while being dropped off at school.

On the other side of Chloe, an older man with salt-and-pepper hair sat perched on a cement block. He wore black pants and a tucked in blue and white plaid shirt. Justin's Father had called out of the blue one afternoon months ago and asked to meet them for dinner. Morgan had been insanely nervous. It was hard enough to meet the parents, let alone do it without the person you're dating actually being there. She worried that he wouldn't like them, wouldn't approve of her past, or would be upset at the fact that they were different ethnicities. But, he and his wife had welcomed them with open arms. They occupied a table at the back of the local Applebee's for hours; them telling Morgan stories of Justin as a kid, and Morgan talking about how they'd met and fallen in love over the short summer months. Chloe chimed in every once in awhile, just long enough to scold her Mom when she mentioned the notorious princess dances she used to subject her parents too.

The only times Chloe wasn't being a brat at home were when Justin called, showed his face on Skype, or Grandpop Timberlake came by for a visit. The marine had been gone for a year, sending heartfelt letters and signing on for the occasional video chat. Because of the terrain and the secrecy of their missions, internet connections were few and hard to come by. Their conversations never last more than a half an hour, but to a deprived military girlfriend it seemed like mere seconds. Letters -an out dated and old fashioned way of communication- had managed to become her lifeline and only true connection to him. The first letter had arrived nearly two weeks after he'd left them, in a plain white envelope smudged with dirt.

Justin sat at the front of the plane, his feet propped up on the seat opposite of him. He was in his usual spot, the first row of seats closest to the cockpit. Behind him, scattered between plastic containers of equipment, were his men. Some were still sitting in their poorly cushioned seats, and others had plopped down on the floor. In the back, Wilson was blasting a homemade CD his wife had secretly shoved into his duffel.

The atmosphere was bittersweet. They were all leaving someone behind, and it was a hard pill to swallow knowing it would be months until you saw them again. What kind of trials would they have to face without you? Would the spark still be burning when you returned, or will some boring, suit-and-tie guy have taken your place?

But, on the bright side of things they were excited for future adventures. The marines enjoyed their job - the traveling, the equipment, the adrenaline. In addition, they also enjoyed spending time together. They were a band of brothers, in every sense of the word, and they needed time to do all the 'brotherly' things that kept them such a close-knit group.

The plane jostled sharply, tossing everything and everyone aboard from side to side. The pad of paper in Justin's lap went flying, the black pen leaving a long slash across the page. The Staff Sergeant grumbled as he leaned down to pick it up.

"Fuckin' rookie pilots," he said to himself.

Justin was writing a letter to his girls back home - or trying to anyway. Writing them wasn't the problem, the honesty was. He wanted to start things off on the right foot. Following Wilson's advice, he wanted to be honest about everything. He wanted to be honest about the PTSD, missing them, what he was experiencing while away - everything.

His goodbyes with Morgan and Chloe had only been a matter of hours ago, but it already felt like too long. Before, he would have considered a man who was homesick after less than a day to be a punk - not cut out for the Corps. But, now he understood the internal battle that came with his line of work. You loved your job, but in order to do it you had to sacrifice something - your life, your well-being, your relationship, your finances.

"Sup Serge?"

Justin heard the deep voice, and looked up to see one of his newer team mates, SSgt. Ellington. He would be replacing Chad's spot in the unit. Ellington was tall, and dark skinned with bright white teeth and large muscles that seemed to jut out of his shoulders and wrap around his neck. He appeared to be a nice enough guy judging from the few weeks Justin had spent with him, but he was definitely no Chad.

"Hey Ellington," Justin said, flipping the note pad over in his lap and shielding the words from Ellington's view.

He had to be honest with Morgan, but it wasn't anyone else's business what was going on in his head. The other Sergeant noticed the smooth move, but didn't mention it. Instead he sat down in the empty seat across from Justin and pointed toward the back of the plane.

"How long is Wilson going to keep this up?"

Justin leaned forward and looked at Wilson. Bruno Mars was playing, and Wilson was slow dancing with Perri.

"Uhh," Justin started, "basically until we're on our way back home."

"Seriously?" Ellington asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Justin said grimly.

Ellington's face sank, and he leaned back in the chair.

"No way," he said. "I'll break that stupid CD player."

Justin didn't respond, but the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. Ellington was quiet for a moment, then, with a jut of his chin he motioned to the notepad in Justin's lap.

"Getting a head start on the letters back home?"

Justin nodded, twirling the pen between his fingers.

"May as well," he said. "We've got a 13-hour flight, and you know how slow the mail system is around here."

Ellington smiled, "truth."

Justin nodded back and diverted his eyes to the window ahead of him. The sky was clear blue, and dotted with puffy white clouds that looked like cotton balls. Justin watched as they passed, waiting for the other Sergeant to leave. He didn't. Instead, Ellington reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph.

"Did you see my wife, Amanda?"

Justin looked at the picture, then back at Ellington. Amanda was a pretty young girl, with light skin and a big, round afro. The two must have made quite the pair in person, Ellington big and muscular and Amanda thin and petite. Justin smirked and Ellington laughed out loud.

"Don't let her fool you. She looks all sweet and innocent, but she's a firecracker when she wants to be."

Justin reached into his own pocket and pulled out his cell phone, opening a photo of Morgan and Chloe. They'd been at the park, the afternoon of the day they'd told Chloe he was leaving. The girls were smiling on a blue slide; Chloe in Morgan's lap, their dark curls blending together in a stream down to their waists.

"Morgan and Chloe," he said, turning the screen to Ellington.

A look of surprise passed over Ellington's face.

"She yours?"

Justin outright laughed.

"No. Well, not biologically. That guy is a dick. Pretty much her whole life she's only had her Mom."

Ellington gave a shrug, and reached out to pat Justin on the arm.

"But, she's got a Daddy now, right? That's what counts."

Justin smiled warmly, nodding and looking down at the photo. His mind went back to the day before, as he and Chloe walked down the hall when he picked her up from school. She'd call him Dad in front of all her friends, and later, in front of her Mom. His heart had melted and swelled at the same time.

"Beautiful family, man."

Justin nodded in appreciation, breaking out of his trans and looking up at Ellington.

"Thanks."

Maybe Ellington was a tad cooler than he'd thought.

"I had a feeling you were sitting over here thinking about someone back home. You just had that look on your face."

"It's a little harder than I thought it'd be."

Ellington nodded in understanding.

"We just started. It'll get better."

With that, the burly man finally got up and walked away, leaving Justin to his thoughts. He looked down at his lap, flipping the notepad back over and going back to his letter. He read over his words, trying to drown out the melody softly floating over from Wilson's small boom box.

"Wilson and his wife have this obnoxious tradition where she sends him CDs full of love songs, and he in-turn uses it to spend every free waking moment torturing us. Right now I'm being serenaded by the jet engines and the sweet sounds of 'Shrek' and Wilson's best impersonation of Donkey. But, I have to admit - and I know this will sound cheesy - for the first time I can sorta understand what these lame romcom love songs are about. Feeling all bubbly and happy for no reason.... Maybe I'll make this your ringtone when I'm back home - and then keep my phone on silent so no one will ever know.

So she said what's the problem baby
What's the problem?
I don't know well maybe I'm in love
Think about it every time
I think about it
Can't stop thinking 'bout it
How much longer will it take to cure this?
Just to cure it cause I can't ignore it if it's love
Makes me wanna turn around and face me but I don't know nothing 'bout love

Come on, come on
Jump a little higher
Come on, come on
If you feel a little lighter
Come on, come on
We were Once Upon A Time in love

We're accidentally in love
Accidentally in love

His letters always arrived on an infrequent basis. Sometimes they were delivered in perfect condition, once a week. Other times she'd go weeks without a word from him, only to find a bundle of backlogged envelopes in the mailbox. Sometimes the papers were crinkled and worn on the edges, other times they were covered in dirt and dust. Various stamps decorated the outside, and Morgan guessed his unit was moving around from base to base.

Justin kept his promise to the Corps, he never told her where he was. But, he'd give clues, like the difference in time zones, the weather, and a word or food popular in the local culture. At night Morgan would pass the time by researching maps on the computer and using the clues to try and pinpoint his location. Sometimes it seemed like South America or the Caribbean - maybe Barbados. Other times the clues lead her to South-East Europe or North Africa. In the beginning it was a game with Chloe, but after her birthday had passed and a new group of friends came along she didn't have the time to be bothered with "silly kid games" like that. Morgan knew that deep down it was just Chloe's way of dealing with feelings she didn't understand. A deployment was hard on everyone - young, old, mother, child, girlfriend. Some people assumed the idea of "out of sight, out of mind" would kick in. But in reality, absence made the heart grow fonder, and fonder, and fonder until it was just a hollow empty space in your chest.

The missing him never got easier to handle. Her heart always ached a little more when their Skype sessions ended and his icon turned gray, or when his letters - so honest and poignant - came to a close. For those few special moments, it was almost like he was back home. Reading his letters, she could hear his voice in her mind, feel his fingers on her skin, see his blue orbs staring at her from the other pillow. If she closed her eyes and focused, she could feel his long arms wrap around her and squeeze her in the most protective embrace. But, then her lids would open, and she'd still be in bed alone.

Raindrops splattered against the thin windows, rattling the panes. Morgan laid in the middle of her queen sized bed, her pen abandoned in the center of her notebook. Justin's latest letter was unfolded on the comforter beside her, silently reminding her of just how alone she was during this storm. Mascara-tainted tear streaks stained her round cheeks, leaving black smudges in their wake. It was January, the holidays had come and gone without Justin around. Oddly enough, despite the fact that Justin had never been with them for any holidays before, it still felt strange not having him there. Instead of getting to kiss him at midnight or agonize over what Christmas gift to get him, she received a letter dated December 1st on January 3rd.

She wished he was there to keep her warm during rain storms, drive around with her looking at lights on Christmas Eve, watch sappy romantic movies and drink eggnog, and join in on Chloe's 'Is Santa Real?' conversations. Chloe's faith in the big white man draped in a thick, red coat was starting to waiver. Just yesterday she was a happy, clueless little girl, and now she was starting to figure out how the world works. Morgan worried that any day now Chloe would be coming home all starry eyed and drooling over a cute little boy of her own. Maybe she and Chloe could sit at the dinner table and doodle their guys' names and hearts in notebooks together.

Watching so many months pass without him around was making deployment and the life of a marine family all too real. The side of the bed he usually claimed had been drenched in his scent before. Now, it smelled of cotton and Tide. There were times when Morgan could imagine the feeling of Justin's arms around her so vividly, that it was almost like he was really with her. She could feel his chest against her back and his long arm on her waist. Her body would relax into him and a wave of warmth would envelope her like she'd been draped with an extra blanket. However, lately, the bed stayed cold and empty no matter how hard she tried to focus. His laugh and smile - once regular features in her life- were becoming fading memories. The man who had become so present in her life was becoming a phantom, and each day she wondered a little more how much longer she could hold onto him.

"I understand why you're gone," Morgan wrote on the lined paper. "But I still wish you were back already. I miss talking to you - face to face talking to you. I miss laying with you, arguing with you. I need you to tell me if I'm planning things the right way. Am I being harsh if I tell Chloe she can't play with her friends who were caught playing dice in the back lot last week? It is so difficult for her to make friends. Did I spend too much on pay-per-view movies last month? Should I try looking for a new job, some place Devon won't be able to find me if he decides to start up again? You're so good at 'giving it to me straight'. Sometimes I wish you'd sugarcoat it a little more, but I appreciate that you've always got my best interest at heart. I just wish that you were here with us. Wait until you see Chloe. She's changing so much, so fast. She misses you too.

I love the way you are
It's who I am
Don't have to try hard
We always say
Say it like it is
And the truth
Is that I really miss
All those crazy things you said
You left them running through my head
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here
All those crazy things we did
Didn't think about it, just went with it
You're always there, you're everywhere
But right now I wish you were here

Damn, Damn, Damn
What I'd do to have you
Here, here, here
I wish you were here
Damn, Damn, Damn
What I'd do to have you
Near, near, near
I wish you were here

A small village of green tents sat in the middle of the desert, a lone tree next to the brilliant camp fire in the middle. Off in the distance, a group of marines clad in only green shorts were wrestling in the dirt, each trying to retrieve the soccer ball and score a goal for their team. In the middle of camp, Pvt. Perri was overseeing the cooking of a large wild boar they'd killed while on patrol early that morning. Billingsley and Combs had built a makeshift pig roaster out of sticks, and Perri -the youngest of the group- had drawn the short straw in having to spend hours supervising it. Justin could see all of them from his cot, his trained eyes scanning the horizons behind them more so than enjoying their antics. SSgt. Ellington was asleep in the cot next to him, and Justin was scribbling on the yellow notepad that the boys joked seemed to always be attached to his hip.

A slight smirk played across his lips as he looked over her last letter. It was scribbled in red ink on plain white paper. She'd told him that all things were quiet on the home front. Chloe was staying out of trouble, she hadn't seen hide nor hare of Devon, and her boss had finally gotten off her back about the drama going on in her personal life. The last few lines were from a song she'd set as his ringtone the day he left.

"I don’t know where you’re going
Or when you’re coming home
I left the keys under the mat to our front door
For one more chance to hold you close
I don’t know where you’re going
Just get your ass back home"

It was one of those moments
When everything changes
She was climbing out of a Chevrolet
On the passenger's side
I must've been staring
'Cause when I caught her eye
It seemed like
I had been looking at her for all of my life
So I said
Why don't you come and go with me
Somehow I know I've waited my whole life to see
You standing there with the wind in your hair
I'm as sure as a boy could be
You are the girl that's been running around in my dreams

Ending their letters with lyrics had indeed become a nice tradition for them. Morgan used the verses at the end of each letter to come up with her own personalized 'Justin' playlist. At night it would bring her comfort to play the songs and remember his words. Sometimes she'd imagine what he was doing and where he had been when he wrote them. In her dreams, she'd stand over his shoulder and watch as his pen moved across the paper. She imagined Wilson and Billingsley asking questions, trying to pry into the Serge's private life and find out what he was writing about. Morgan imagined him throwing a flat, worn out pillow at them both and ordering them to give him some peace and quiet to finish. Sometimes in her dreams she'd lay her head on his chest while he wrote, soaking in the soft thumping sound of his heartbeat, and he'd twirl her curls around one of his fingers while continuing to scribble with the other hand.

A half an hour had passed since Morgan had arrived on base, and the space in front of her was slowly starting to fill. The busses wouldn't pull in until sunset, but already other families were gathering, relaxing in mesh lawn chairs and playing flag football on the field. Some came with signs saying "Welcome Home" and "My Hero Wears Dogtags". Other more brazen Milso's brought signs saying, "You think the Middle East was hot? Wait for tonight" and ""Welcome back! Are you ready to be DEBRIEFED?"

Morgan could only giggle. She wished she'd thought ahead enough to make a sign. Truth be told she'd been so excited just at the idea that he was coming home that she hadn't had the wherewithal to do much else than run around in a flurry cleaning the apartment and go by the mall to grab a new outfit for herself. Besides, she had no idea what she would have written on a banner anyway. Maybe, "Drop your pack, it's time to hump!" It was hardly appropriate for a sign, but she'd be lying if she said it wasn't how she felt. Judging by some of Justin's more steamy letters, she wasn't the only one who missed having someone to stay up all night with.

"Nights are the loneliest times here. It's when things are quiet, and you have the chance to sit and reflect on the day, the month, life. I can't lie, being constantly surrounded by a bunch of men sucks. They're loud, they're gross, and someone always smells. We hardly even have the chance to see a woman walk down the street here, and I can tell it's making some of the boys antsy. I think they'll be starting up the R&R rotations soon - which is good. We could all use a little companionship, if you catch my drift ;-P"

Justin was laying on his cot in the dark. He had pulled the sheet up over his head, and wedged a small flashlight between his chin and his chest for some light. He was trying to keep the light from bothering the other men while they got a few hours sleep before getting back on the move. They'd been going for 19 hours, and this was the first chance he'd gotten to write home in days. He hadn't gotten a letter from her in awhile, but he was sure that it was just because the mail hadn't caught up to him yet. He'd always been able to feel Morgan. They were connected in an odd way that no one else could understand. He could feel when she was angry, afraid, ashamed. Now, he could feel that she was writing him, still waiting for him, even if he didn't have the proof in his hands.

"I can't wait to see you again. I'd give anything to be with you right now. I miss your hair, your lips, the way you moan, and your nails scratching down my back. Those are some of my favorite things to think about at night. Your wet lips brushing mine while you're kissing me. Your thighs spread over my hips and your hands on my chest while you ride me. My hands pulling off your clothes and holding your hair out of my way. When I think of you, my body aches for you. It starts in my chest, and washes over me. I've never felt this way about anyone before. Ever. This craving I have for you drives me crazy.

You gave me that look across the table
At dinnertime
Your toes caress my ankle
And I notice your breathing getting heavy
Your speech short of steady
It's obvious you're ready

Skip the elevator
Head straight toward the stairs
Lipstick shades on pillowcases
Love and lust together here
But you know
I don't have to tell you it's not just about that
Not just about that
And you know
We don't have to prove it was never about that
Never about that

"My body aches for you too," Morgan wrote back. "I miss the way you look at me, how I can tell that you want me without you having to say a word. I miss how you growl at me when I'm doing something you like, and the way you smell when you come in from the field. I never imagined that going this long without affection would be so difficult, but your touch was something I missed almost instantly. At night, I remember the way you used to pull me across the mattress by my hips and pin my wrists against the pillows above my head. I need you so bad."

And when we're done, I don’t wanna feel my legs
And when we're done, I just wanna feel your hands all over me, baby
But you can’t stop there
Music still playing in the background
And you're almost there
You can do it, I believe in you, baby
So close from here
Baby, Imma be your motivation

Justin had been right about the leave rotation. It was the end of February when she read in one of his letters that he was getting a week's time off. Her mind immediately filled with all the possibilities. A week meant six nights of sleeping next to him, seventeen or eighteen home cooked meals, and countless hours of kissing and laughing. Finally, there was an upside to this deployment! But, reading further into his letter, her excitement started to falter. Because of his current geographic position - information she still wasn't allowed to be given - his unit was being sent to Australia for R&R. Making the long trip to California and back would eat up more than half of his precious vacation time, and cost more money than he had.

Morgan felt tears begin to well in her eyes. This letter had started out so happy and promising. Now, the only bright side appeared to be that he would be near a steady internet connection and a landline for a week. It hardly made up for the months without him, but she supposed it was better than no good news at all. Continuing down the letter, her eyes finally ran over words that put a permanent smile on her face. There was a stateside base on the East coast: Cherry Point, North Carolina. Justin knew of a supply plane heading there, and could hitch a ride if she was willing to meet him. Three days in a cheap base motel room was the most he could offer, but it was more than enough to put a smile on Morgan's face. She jumped up and down with joy, barely holding in the shriek of joy bursting in her lungs. Then, she darted off to her laptop to look at ticket prices. She'd been setting a little bit of money aside from each check just in case of an emergency like a car repair, surprise bill, or very-necessary mini shopping spree. A quick getaway with Justin seemed like the perfect opportunity to dip into her funds.

Morgan's hands were shaking like a leaf throughout the entire taxi ride. She tried to calm her nerves by taking in the lush greenery whizzing by outside the window. North Carolina sure was healthy, with thick grass and dark green trees that stretched high into the sky. But as relaxing as the scenery was, she couldn't calm her heart. Her stomach was jerky and lurching as if it were filled with a thousand butterflies. She'd been on a plane for the last six hours, fantasizing and stressing about seeing Justin face-to-face. She felt like a teenage girl going on her first date.

Chloe had stayed behind with Morgan's grandmother. Morgan didn't want her to miss any school, since it had taken a few days to work through her tantrums when Justin first left. Plus, the money in Morgan's savings account had only been enough for one ticket, and it wasn't as if Chloe could travel alone the way Morgan could.

The taxi pulled into the parking lot of the motel, and Morgan stepped out to look at the worn building. The paint had faded in the harsh sun, making it look more gray than white. She grabbed her bag from the outstretched hand of the driver, and gave him a few bills to cover the fare and tip. When she stepped into the building, a gust of cool air from the AC blew her bangs back.

"Hi, checking-in. Lauren Bacall."

"Yes," the woman behind the counter said in a slow drawl. "Your partner, Humphrey Bogart, is already here."

The woman raised a knowing eyebrow at Morgan, and slid a silver key across the counter. Morgan shrugged and turned away. It had been Justin's not-so-clever idea to use the codenames, not hers.

Picking up her bag again, Morgan headed for the elevators, and then down the hall of the second floor. Green carpet lined the pathway under her feet. The tag on the key read 203, which was all the way at the end on the right. The numbers were painted in gold on a clear, plastic plaque under the peephole. She raised a fist to knock on the door, and had barely connected when it flew open before her. There he was, all six-foot-three-inches of him, clad in green camo pants and a loose white tee-shirt. Neither of them spoke, or moved. They just stood there, looking at each other, trying to find the words that made up for a thousand missed 'hello's, 'goodnights', 'how are you?'s and 'I miss you's. There wasn't a word in existence - no way to vocalize all of the dozens of things they wanted to say. Morgan wasn't sure where to even begin, or how much longer she could keep from throwing herself at him and wrapping her limbs around him. She hadn't touched him -hadn't been touched by him- in so, so long. She wanted to feel him.

"Hi," he said finally.

"Hi," she whispered.

Then Justin reached out, his hand crossing the barrier into the hall, and grabbed Morgan's arm. He pulled her into the room, into his chest. Her bag fell to the floor with a thump, and her arms snaked around his waist. It seemed like their lips were connected instantly. His tongue found its way past her lips, exploring her mouth and dueling with her own. Hands were sliding all over her, pulling her shirt over her head and unfastening the hooks on her bra in a flash. The fabric fell in a puddle by the door, quickly joined by the white shirt once stretched across Justin's chest. The Carolina air was chilly, cooled by the ever-running air conditioner, but his hands were warm and strong as they lifted her body into the air and carried her to king-sized bed.

He laid her on the crisp white sheets, kissing his way down her chin, past her collarbone, and between her breasts. Justin found himself basking in her soft, mocha-colored skin. Months spent imagining how she'd feel did absolutely no justice to the real thing. Morgan felt large hands smooth up the sides of her thighs as he worked his way back up her body, stopping to look at her face. He spent a long time staring down into her eyes, getting lost in her dark orbs. Growing anxious, Morgan sat up on her elbows, pushing Justin over onto his back so she could climb into his lap. Once again his gentle lips met her skin, as hands ran down her back.

For hours they were in bed, wrapped around each other and moving in unison. Once she touched him -her fingertips grazing over his tough skin- she never wanted to stop. It had been far too long since the last time she'd felt his arms around her, since she'd felt his bare stomach against hers, and their legs intertwined. Justin obviously felt the same, because from the moment Morgan stepped into the room he was touching her; holding her, kissing her, cuddling her, tasting her. No matter how close he pulled her body, it wasn't close enough. Flying all day and all night had been worth it, because he needed this time with her. He needed to have her close, just for a little while, so he would have the heart to push through the final phase of the mission. He spent the entire day holding her captive between cotton sheets, drinking her in; trying to get his fill of her.

A local pizza parlor delivered dinner that night, and around eleven -exhausted and spent- they finally laid down to go to bed. Morgan slept deeply for the first time in over a month before feeling fingers grip the span of her hips and lips tickle the back of her shoulder. Her eyes opened, and straight ahead was a large window with parted curtains. It was the middle of the night. The full moon was high, peeking in on them from between gray clouds. The marine's firm erection was pressed against the back of her thigh, wide-awake and demanding attention. His hands already had a hold of her, lifting her leg to part her thighs.

They stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning, and then laid in bed talking all afternoon. The world passed by in a blur. Justin and Morgan had been apart for months, but in their little white room in North Carolina, it was like no time had passed at all. He was the same handsome man with broad shoulders and worry lines frowned into his face, and she was the same beautiful girl with deep eyes and full pink lips.

The couple went for dinner and drinks at a hole-in-the-wall near base; their very first date alone, without Chloe. Afterward, they walked to the air field so Morgan could look at the jets on the tarmac, and finally returned to their tiny slice of Heaven in room 203 to spend their last night together. The next day would see Justin hopping a cargo plane in the afternoon, and Morgan heading back to California in the evening.

Those three short days in that room with Justin had brought her more comfort than a thousand of his letters ever could. It wasn't that his words weren't comforting, there was just nothing like being able to see him in person; look into his eyes and run a hand over his chest. The quick seventy-two hour trip hadn't made up for the past nine months without him, but it was enough to hold her over for the remaining three months until he came home to stay.

But, even though they'd somehow managed to share beautiful intimate moments through letters and have a brief romantic interlude across thousands of miles, there had been a fair share of rough times too. Justin had promised to be open with Morgan about what he was feeling and experiencing. There would be no more secrets. Unfortunately, in war the bad times often outnumbered the good. More than once Morgan found herself at a loss for words to comfort Justin as he dealt with the haunting and tragic life that was War.

Morgan was struggling to unlock the front door, thanks to the multiple grocery bags dangling from her arms. Every time she reached out to put the key in the lock the unsteady weight of the swinging bags would jostle her hand. Morgan looked over her shoulder at Chloe, who was oblivious to her mother’s struggle. Instead, she was leaning against the wall, bobbing her head to the music playing in her ear.

“Chloe! Can you pull those things off your ears for a second and open the door for me?” Morgan asked.

For a moment she felt bad that her tone sounded so annoyed, but, come on.

Chloe looked up with a bit of attitude of her own, and stepped over to the door. In a second she had pushed open the door and made her way into the house. Morgan shook her head at the little diva who had been forming over the past few months. She knew that soon she would have to talk Chloe down off the high horse she was attempting to climb on, before things really got out of control.

Morgan followed Chloe inside and placed the bags on the kitchen counter. She began to pull things out and place them in their appropriate places, simultaneously leaving some things out to cook for dinner. Since she'd had such a good day at work Morgan thought she would cook some tacos and follow-up with some homemade chocolate chip cookies and a bowl of ice cream with Chloe. Mexican food had become a favorite of hers since the night she and Justin had taken Chloe to dinner, and Chloe had told them all about boyfriends and girlfriends. The smile on Chloe's little round face as Justin had whispered in her ear was one of Morgan's fondest memories of her new family.

After pulling out the skillet and placing the ground beef on the pan Morgan walked over to her purse and pulled out the day's mail.

“Bill, bill, junk, bill, junk....” She repeated as she flipped through the envelopes.

Morgan continued muttering to herself, almost finishing the pile, before stopping short at a letter that was bit dingy, roughly handled, and dotted with stamps. She smiled as she ran her fingers over the name in the top left: SSgt. Timberlake. There was no return address, just his name.

The meat started sizzling on the stove, and Morgan tossed the mail onto the counter to tend to dinner. A letter from Justin was no reason to waste a pound of perfectly good ground beef. She turned the heat down and began to break up the meat, sprinkling it with seasonings. All the while her eyes were glancing back towards the letter. What had he written? Where had it come from? How many pages was it? How long would it be until the next one arrived? Finally, with dinner under control, Morgan walked back over to the letter and began to carefully remove its contents.

As she unfolded a three-page letter, Chloe came bouncing into the kitchen, bobbing her head animatedly to her music as she yanked open the fridge and pulled out a Capri Sun. Then, without so much as glancing in Morgan's direction, she made her way over to the cabinet and pulled out a chocolate Debbie snack cake. Finally, she exited the kitchen still off in her own world. Morgan watched her go, shaking her head with chuckle before going back to her letter and starting to read.

"Hey little girl, I hope this letter finds you well. I'm just sitting here, counting the days until I get to see you again. The mood here is black. No one wants to talk. I guess there isn’t much to say. There isn’t much to do either, but a lot to think about. All I can do is count the days and mark them off on the calendar. I wish I could write in a more upbeat way - you know, be more optimistic or whatever. But, being a marine isn't all fun. It isn't all blowing shit up and taking Facebook profile pics in the desert. It has shitty days. A lot of shitty days. Shitty days like today, that stop you in your tracks and make you turn hard. You grow cold and disconnected. Inside, I grow more and more desperate for you. We lost someone this morning."

If I never see your face
If wings take you away from me, and tomorrow never happens baby
If the world comes tumbling down and crumbles all around us
Fate turns cruel, you're on your knees
So desperate for one truth, know that I have loved you

His next letter didn't come until weeks later. Morgan had begun to worry. Had both their greatest fears come true? Had something happened to him? What if her letter hadn't reached him in time and he was gone without knowing that he would always be special to her? That was a worry that brought tears to her eyes, so she tried not to think about it and keep a positive smile. Chloe was watching her Mom for any signs of trouble or panic. Morgan had to be strong not only as a marine girlfriend, but as a Mother as well.

One day Morgan opened the mail slot looking for the PG &E bill, and found a battered letter, her address scribbled in Justin's chicken scratch writing. She'd never felt such relief as she held the folded papers against her chest. He wrote that her words were a great comfort to him, and that he was still counting down the minutes until he could be with them again. Before, he would have enjoyed all the traveling, the guns, the new people. He still did, but being with her and 'his daughter' were the only thing that really mattered to him anymore. The missions had a different level of risk attached to them, and he found himself being even more cautious than usual. At the end he thanked her for being so faithful, and for loving him enough to give him a chance to change.

Seeing the word 'daughter' scribbled with his black ink made her heart beat overtime. Morgan was starting to feel more and more like she really might have found 'the one' - the one who was going to be with her through thick and thin, the one who would put her happiness and well-being above all, the one she should have been in love with and had a family with from the start. Justin would be a good husband, and a good father. He was tall, handsome, smart, funny, compassionate, stable, dependable, mysterious. He was.... everything.

I don't wanna lose you now
I'm lookin' right at the other half of me
The vacancy that sat in my heart
Is a space that now you hold
Show me how to fight for now
And I'll tell you, baby, it was easy
Comin' back here to you once I figured it out
You were right here all along

It's like you're my mirror
My mirror staring back at me
I couldn't get any bigger
With anyone else beside of me
And now it's clear as this promise
That we're making two reflections into one
'Cause it's like you're my mirror
My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me

More than anything, she wondered what would come next for them now that his homecoming had arrived. They'd known each other barely a year and a half, and they'd spent more of that time apart than they had together. Would things go back to normal? Would things move forward? Would Chloe still accept him as her Dad? Would they move in together? Would they become a "real" family? Would he still want her? Would she still love him?

So far away
So far away
Been far away for far too long

The deep rumbling of the busses could be heard in the distance as the flat face of the first bus soon turned the corner into the parking lot. The energy from the large crowd of families began to simmer. They were like a soda being shaken, each second growing closer to exploding. Morgan could feel her heart nearly beat out of her chest as she watched the dust kick up in the road. Justin had been gone for so long. Now, he was right there, right inside of those vehicles. It felt like if the wheels didn't stop rolling and the doors fling open right then and there, she was either going to burst with excitement and anticipation or keel over from a stress-induced heart attack.

The crowd began to shift as they waited anxiously. Some family and children were so overwhelmed with excitement and relief that they began to cry. Chloe reached up to take her Mother's hand, smiling ear to ear as the silver vehicles made their way down the aisle toward the administration building. Names were starting to be called out as the busses came closer, and the homemade signs were waving high in the air.

The busses slowed their approach, eventually creeping to a stop. Morgan grew nauseous, her stomach tossing and tumbling over itself. Emotions were pulsing so hard in her veins that her hands trembled. It was that adrenaline Justin was always talking about. The exhausts blew and the doors opened up with a squeak. Morgan felt Chloe squeeze her fingers tight. Soon, out came a short, thin marine with a dark green duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, closely followed by another. All at once the seemingly composed crowd erupted in a frenzy. Bodies dashed in all directions, everyone heading towards the busses as more and more marines stepped out onto the cement.

“I’ll wait here with Chloe, you gone on ahead.”

A deep voice broke Morgan's train of thought, and she looked down at Justin’s Father.

“What? Where am I going?”

He let out a snicker and motioned towards the crowd with a jut of his chin. It was a move Morgan had seen Justin make a million times.

"To find my son," he said. "I’m far too old to fight my way through the madness. We'll wait right here for you.”

Morgan looked down at Chloe, then back at Justin's Father just a split second before turning and practically leaping down the stairs. She started to fight her way through the wall of people, trying her best to politely shove past hugging families and Milso's searching for their returned loved ones as well. Briefly she wondered if wearing a skirt had been the best idea, since she was going to be running around and squeezing between all these people. She hadn't really considered the conditions of their reunion, all she knew was that today she wanted to do everything Justin liked - and he liked her legs.

So far away
So far away
Been far away for far too long

Morgan slowly made her way through the tightly packed groups of loved ones reuniting with their marines. She weaved and maneuvered her way between bodies, scanning the crowd wildly in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Justin. Maybe she'd passed him in the frenzy. Maybe he still hadn't gotten off. How would she ever find him in all of this madness? Looking out into the parking lot, a sea of green uniforms stretched before her. Everyone looked the same; all thin with buzzed haircuts and tired faces.

She began to grow even more anxious, panicking as her eyes flicked from face to face. She'd waited a year -an entire year- for him. Maybe it was silly, but the idea of waiting even one more minute after so long seemed like too much to take. Rather than keep running in circles, she tipped her head back and yelled into the air.

” Justin!”

There was no answer, and Morgan looked at the strangers surrounding her. Despite the fact that she was taller than some of the people in the crowd, she felt like they were swallowing her whole. The group surged forward, moving towards the steps, and she couldn’t see above their heads. The sea of green grew darker as she fought her way deeper into the mass. She continued to search every person, and around every large bag or tall marine blocking her view.

“Justin!”

She called his name louder, her frustration continuing to build. Where was he? Had she passed him? Had he make it back to stateside safe? Had something happened that she didn't know about yet?

Her actions grew desperate as she finally reached one of the busses with still no sign of Justin. She stood on her tiptoes, peeking into the windows in case anyone was inside. Seeing no one, she started to carelessly shove her way back through the crowd, oblivious to the beautiful reunions around her.

”Justin!” She called out again.

Now she was growing afraid. She should have found him by now; she should have seen him.

"Justin?!"

“Morgan!”

She stopped in her tracks, spinning in the direction of the voice.

“Morgan!” She heard again.

Slowly her eyes scanned the faces coming towards her, until they finally landed on a tall man straight ahead, flashing a megawatt smile. A variety of emotions ran through her: happiness, relief, excitement, nervousness, hope.

But you know, you know, you know
I wanted, I wanted you stay
Cause I needed, I need to hear you say

Morgan took off in a run, her eyes locking on his face and never turning away. His skin was dark thanks to weeks spent in the sun, and stress had deepened the lines into his forehead, but his blue eyes were shining like beacons in the night. He looked tired, slightly older, yet still as handsome as ever.

The sea parted, opening a narrow pathway straight to him. She ran full speed, watching as he stopped to drop his bag and open his arms. She leaped onto him, their chest colliding and causing Justin to stumble back a bit. He wrapped his arms around her body, holding her tightly as her legs locked around his waist. He buried his face into the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent. It was just as he remembered, vanilla.

She ran her fingers down the back of his neck as she inhaled the scent from his worn uniform. He smelled the same; an intoxicating mixture of the woodsy outdoors, cologne, and musk. She pulled back long enough to look into his blue eyes, their foreheads resting against one another. He felt the same as he had before: strong, warm, impenetrable.

Justin held on tight to the backs of Morgan’s thighs as he hoisted her up a bit higher on his body. A gust of wind blew her hair past his face, tickling his nose. She gently caressed the sides of his neck, looking down at him. They were so close, his mouth barely a breath away from hers. Out of nowhere Morgan forgot how to breath.

True to form, Justin didn't bother waiting for any sort of permission or approval before kissing her. His lips captured hers, drawing her in and shutting out the crowd around them. His lips were soft, and he tasted like a glass of ice cold water. A familiar feeling washed over Morgan, invading her senses. Finally she felt at home, she felt like herself again. It was almost as if for months she'd been lost and wandering in some unknown, uncharted land. But now, here with him, she was some place familiar and understandable. Here was where things felt right.

I love you
I have loved you all along
And I forgive you, for being away for far too long
So keep breathing cause I'm not leaving you anymore
Believe it, hold on to me never let me go

Morgan's mind was reeling. Finally, she and Justin were having this picture perfect moment they'd been waiting for and dreaming about for months. But, at the same time it was so incredibly overwhelming. She'd missed him so much, for so long, and now here he was in her arms. All the nights alone, all of the letters, emails, tears, doubts - all of it was over. He'd be here with her, next to her, able to hold her, talk to her, help her, touch her. He'd completed his mission, and made it back safe and sound. Not only had he survived, but she'd survived too. They'd survived as a couple, and their family had survived together. The realization brought tears to Morgan's eyes, and she didn't even begin to have to strength to hold them back.

Justin felt her begin to cry, and he couldn't help the chuckle that passed his lips. He understood what she was feeling - the sudden end of a journey and realizing you've made it. Deployments were things that broke a lot of families. They ended marriages, foreclosed homes, and even orphaned children. Having made it through together, still in love and hopelessly devoted, he knew that they'd built a special bond that which could never be broken, no matter how difficult the test. She was his Morgan, forever.

"It's okay," he told her. "I'm home. I'm here, it's over."

Keep breathing cause I'm not leaving you anymore
Believe it, hold onto me never let me go
Keep breathing
Hold onto me never let me go
Keep breathing
Hold onto me never let me go

He felt Morgan nod against his shoulder, and after a moment Justin set her feet back on the ground. He pulled back to look at her face, drinking in her chocolate brown eyes. He was about to tell her how beautiful she was when another voice interrupted the moment.

"Well, well, Serge, looks like you and Morgan survived your first deployment."

Justin turned at looked at Wilson. He had an arm slung over Elaine's shoulders, and both were smiling gleefully.

"No more Dad picking you up, huh?"

"Oh, Mr. Timberlake is still here," Morgan said, leaning against Justin's side. "He just waits in the back now."

Justin smirked, and Wilson gave him a pat on the shoulder before they headed off to find the rest of their family. Justin hoisted his duffel bag onto his shoulder and took Morgan's hand.

"Let's get outta here. I've had enough Marine Corps to last awhile."

Morgan nodded, tucking herself against his side as they slowly pushed their way through the growing crowd. All around them people were crying, screaming, laughing. There was love everywhere as families reunited on the grass - passionate kisses, short pats on the back, long overdue tight embraces, bright smiles. The air was so thick with emotion Morgan might have started crying, if she hadn't been already.

When they finally reached the steps Chloe had her back to them. She was chatting with Justin's Dad, waving her hands animatedly. The way her curly ponytail bounced behind her back reminded Morgan of the way Chloe had looked as a little girl, all gangly limbs and dressed in head-to-toe pink. It wasn't until her Grandpop smiled at something behind her that Chloe's attention shifted. She turned to face the steps, prepared to look for her Mom amongst the sea. Instead, she saw Justin a few feet away.

"Dad!" She screamed out.

Chloe flung her arms open, rushing down the final few steps separating them. Justin smiled back, his eyes widening at the difference in her physical appearance as she came closer. This girl was a half a foot taller, with all her teeth and a rebellious sparkle in her eye. She flung herself on him, and Justin wondered if it was a trait she'd gotten from her Mom. Her long arms wrapped around him, and he held her tightly, listening to Selena Gomez play from the headphones around her neck.

"Baby girl!" He said. "I missed you so much."

Chloe leaded back in his arms, smiling widely.

"I missed you too Dad. I'm glad your back."

"What happened to you?" he asked. "You're not my little Chloe anymore."

"Of course, Dad," she said. "You were gone a long time. I'm a big kid now."

Justin nodded, biting back to urge to laugh.

"I see that," he said, setting her back on her feet. "Your Mom and I will have to talk about what she's feeding you. Maybe we can slow that process down a little bit so I can catch up."

Chloe rolled her eyes, giving her Dad a nudge.

Justin turned to his own Dad. The older man stood from his concrete seat with a smile. They shared a tight, strong embrace, and Justin felt his Dad let out a sigh.

"How are ya doing, son?"

There was a subtle arch in his father brow, and Justin knew there was a double meaning to that question. While he was by no means a perfect man coming home from tour, he had done his best to follow through on keeping up with his counseling and medication while away. Missions and travel didn't allow treatment to be as regular as it would have been at home, but he had made many improvements regardless of the setbacks.

"I'm good, Pop," Justin answered honestly. "I'm doing good. I'm just glad to be home."

"Can we go home now?" Chloe asked impatiently.

Everyone looked down at her. She already had one of her headphones pulled back over her ear.

"Yes, please," Justin agreed. "Let's get out of here."

He hoisted his duffle onto his shoulder, and took Morgan's hand in his. Chloe walked ahead with Grandpa, telling him about a pair of concert tickets she'd love to receive as an early Christmas present. The large crowd had leisurely milled out into the parking lot, with brothers-in-arms saying farewell to one another, and squadron leaders shouting PT times to their units. The group made their way to Justin's Audi. Chloe and Grandpop climbed into the backseat, while Morgan opened the trunk so Justin could toss his duffel inside. She held the black key in her hand, hooked over one of her fingers. Maybe she should drive so he could relax on his first trip home.

"Do you wanna ride shot-?"

"No, I'll drive," he said, interrupting her words.

Morgan felt shivers run all over her. He had leaned down, his solid body pressed against her side. His voice, deep and low, was a mere hair's breathe from her ear. That dirty and rugged smell wafted past her nose. She hadn't heard his voice like that in so long - hadn't been this close to him in so long. She felt that ever-present magnetic pull to him vibrate all the way to her core. He pulled the keys from her limp fingers and slammed the trunk shut, eyeing the sudden stiff and distracted tone in her body.

He'd be lying if he said that he hadn't wanted her from the moment he spotted her in the crowd. He saw her white tank and red and white flouncy skirt, her long curls swinging around her waist as she forced her way through the crowd to get to him. If it had been up to him, everyone else would have left and he'd have had his way with her right there, right then. Now, as they were heading back for their first night at home together, he was sure that she wanted him just as bad.

The Staff Sergeant moved behind her, reaching out to gave her a firm smack on the butt as he headed for the driver's side. Morgan jumped, glanced around the parking lot to see if anyone had seen, then turned to him with surprised eyes.

"Justin," she hissed.

"Daddy's home, little girl. I know you like it.," he grinned, opening the door and putting one leg into the car.

Morgan refused to dignify that statement with a response, instead she smirked and looked away.

"Come on, let's go home. I'm fuckin' starving," he said before disappearing inside.

This time Morgan smiled.

Let's go home.

She liked the sound of that.