Cowboy's Away! Sar's Gonna Play! - Day Three
by sarAdora

I am sleeping soundly when the phone rings at 0630 hours. It's always creepy to get a call at an odd hour because you immediately think it's bad news. Well, it was sort of...

It seems that my last piece of revenge on General David, the marine, was delivered at 0300 hours - middle of the night - to the base. LOL! I had it delivered by night courier so both duty shifts got a chance to see the naughty things the General is up to.

Think Anna Nicole Smith.

I sent him a life-size inflatable doll - anatomically correct - with voluptuous proportions - already inflated - and instructed the courier to make sure the box was OPEN and clearly visible. I really covered my tracks good with this one. Had it sent from the East Coast.

"Hello," I answered the phone, yawning.

"Goddamnit, Sar!" he's yelling at the top of his lungs. "If I find out you did this, I'm going to spank you buck naked in the middle of my bullpen for this!"

Ooooooo! Kinky!

"David," I answer in my most exasperated voice. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm half asleep. Slow down. What's happened? Are you okay?"

>Wasn't that touch of concern just too yummy? Never admit guilt! Die first! I wonder if I should sign up for summer stock?

He proceeds to tell me about the doll. I try not to fall off the bed, I am laughing so hard. He's taking a lot of ribbing from the staff - men and women - and I get a brainstorm.

"I don't know why you think I'm the guilty party," I say in my best pouty voice. "Maybe one of your female subordinates sent it to you. Maybe a bunch of them got together and did it. You dress any of them down lately? (That's a military term - doesn't mean he stripped them.) You spank any of them?"

"You're the only female I know who's capable of this prank, SweetCheeks, but it's true, I've had to reprimand a few of the female officers, lately."

Thank God!

"See? You probably have secret admirers, jarhead. Now, I'm going back to sleep."

"Sleep good, baby. 'Cause if I find out it's you," he pauses. "You'll be sleeping on your belly for a LONG time."

That man says the sweetest things.

Okay, I'm up. The dogs and I pig out on pancakes and Canadian bacon. There's praline crunch ice cream in the freezer. We all have a milkshake and then go jogging. It's such a beautiful day, I even wave to Mrs. Hair Up Her Ass when I see her pick up her morning paper as we jog by.

"Cowboy's gonna spank you when he gets home." The woman has an evil laugh.

I shoot her a bird and do one of those mafioso hand/arm flingy thingys.

"Well, I never," she sputters.

Jeez. I thought we confirmed that a couple of days ago.

I let the Rott lift his leg on her wilting wisteria.

By the time we jogged the pancakes off, I was ready for another shower but worked the dogs instead. Knowing Cowboy was due home in a few hours, and the very real possibility that my teeny tiny butt might feel the wrath of his exceedingly large hand... I couldn't get any serious work done. Played on the Internet for a little while, did happy homemaker things, took a nap, and contemplated an early demise. I bought a really lovely plum gown a few weeks ago - floor length - silky - was gonna wear it to a dinner party we're invited to - they could lay me out in that. Plum is so becoming to my coloring. Sigh. I knew it was a good investment when I bought it.

1800 hours (6 p.m.)

House phone rings.

"Hi babe," he says a little too cheerfully.

"Hey Cowboy. When will you be home?" There still might be time to pick up those tickets to the Falklands.

"Transport's delayed an hour. Getting in around 9 p.m."

Thank you, Jesus!

"Okey-dokey. Will you want supper?"

"No supper, sweetheart. I'm eating in a few minutes. David called," he says softly.


Red Alert! Heart palpitations! Quick, call 911! I'll change into the plum gown.

"He said he's dropping by tomorrow afternoon - wants to take us out to dinner."

"Why?" Was that too abrupt? Damn!

"Why not? He's a good friend. The three of us haven't been out to dinner in a while."

"Would you rather I made dinner for us at home?"

"No, let the jarhead spring for dinner at that new club downtown."

"Oh good! I'll wear my new plum gown."

"Mmmm, that's a nice one, baby. Can't wait to see you in that."

You and the undertaker.

"What did you do today?" he asks.

"Didn't get too much done," I admit. "Feeling antsy."

"Worried, mia cara?"

"Should I be?" Damn, sometimes, I'm just too brave for my own good.


Oh great. Just shoot me now.


"'Cause you wandered off, that's why," he says softly. "I'm willing to ignore it when I'm home, but when I'm not..." he lets the thought dangle.

"I think this calls for a serious discussion, first," I bluster.

"We'll discuss it, baby. Then, I'll make sure you understand the discussion," he says quietly. Cowboy never raises his voice - neither does a warrior when he's about to slice the throat of an enemy.

I am sooooo screwed.

"You know if I disagree, we're going to have a problem over this," I dig the hole I'm standing in just a little deeper.

"We'll talk first," he promises. "Hang on a minute."

I wait.

"Okay, ETA is now approximately 10 p.m."

There IS a God. I've got time to make it to Sea-Tac International before he lands at Boeing Field. I'm on my way to Romania. I don't think we have any military bases there.


Cowboy's due home in 90 minutes.

Light a candle for me.

~ End Part Three ~

| Go to Part Four |

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