Chapter 20
SABBY
I f there was one type of song that Sabby wished existed more in metal, it was love songs. Not that the genre was totally lacking in love songs... if you wanted to scream about toxic relationships, or kinky sex, or something else that lived in the world of the less than romantic.
But actual romantic love songs? Songs that talked about the way a girl felt when her heart wanted to soar over the heavens and even her heaviest boots felt like flip flops?
Songs that talked about how she chose her clothes now not just to look sexy in general, but to look sexy for one very special person?
Or how even the thought of him left her knees quivering with anticipation of the next time he'd be there between them?
Those were few and far between, with most metal fans deriding the tunes as being too soft and sappy for metal. If it wasn't about torrid fucking that may or may not involve the flow of blood, most metalheads didn't want to hear it.
And Sabby got it. Metal was music for vanquishing your enemies, for taking on the world and kicking ass while you did it.
Also, she generally detested emotional songs as too whiny.
Pop singers made everything seem shallow, as if pink bubblegum and a red rose could in any way replicate the feelings she had inside.
Probably because most pop singers were aiming for the tweeny-bopper market, where love was intense. .. and cookie sheet shallow.
Meanwhile, regular rockers either sounded like they were losing their minds, or they were overly melodramatic. About the closest she could come to 'love songs' she liked in rock involved Aerosmith, who were at times relatively hardcore rockers.
But she was definitely feeling the need for some emotional music that day. Maybe some Evanescence, maybe a little Aerosmith itself. She'd woken up from a morning nap to an Amazon delivery... from Logan.
It wasn't much, just a Metallica t-shirt from their album And Justice For All. But it was a t-shirt she didn't have, and the message that was included had her floating on clouds the rest of the day. * You're better than Hetfield's lyrics on this one. And gnarlier than Ulrich's guitar .*
It was pretty much the best compliment she'd ever gotten.
Even now, as she wiped down the counter at work, his words came back to her and she was left almost giggling with delight.
Of course she'd decided to wear the shirt to work, going with it under her MWR polo and a regular pair of jeans for her work outfit.
She didn't have to dress up every day, and it felt like a warm hug from Logan to know that something he gave her was right up against her skin.
Today was one of the days that Logan tended to come by the alley after work, and she wanted him to know she appreciated it... even if she still had to wash and 'distress' the fabric some to lend it that right amount of beat to shit authenticity.
"Excuse me."
Sabby looked up, her jaw clenching as the National Guard lieutenant from a few weeks ago approached the counter. The same one who'd harassed her, who'd made her feel like shit, and who'd started a fight with Logan.
Actually, she had to thank him for that last bit. After all, his jackassery had led to the best dating relationship she'd ever had before. Not that he needed to know that, it would probably just encourage him to continue being a dick to the rest of the world.
He was again in civilian clothes, a maroon polo shirt and jeans that left her feeling like she was dressed way too much like he was. The shirt had a logo over the heart, but Sabby didn't recognize it. Then again, she didn't hire a lawn care company. "Yes?"
The man bristled, clearly expecting deference from Sabby, but she wasn't going to give undeserved respect to anyone, let alone someone who'd already been a jerk to her. After a moment he snorted, and continued.
"The MWR office said that I need to come here to book the facility."
"Yup, we handle all facility reservations here at the alley," Sabby replied, setting aside her distaste for the man to do her job. "Since we open ourselves up to the community, we'd rather do things that way since they may not know how to use the MWR system."
"Whatever," the lieutenant said. "Can I book it here with you or do I need to talk to someone else?"
Sabby was about to tell him to go talk to her hand with that attitude, but she was a professional.
"No, I can do it," she said instead, gesturing him over to the computer by the register. "What are you looking to book? The cafe, a couple of lanes, or the whole facility?"
"Why?" the lieutenant asked.
Sabby sighed. *Just answer the fucking questions, man. It's not that goddamn hard.*
"Cost mostly, but also because it helps us with staffing," Sabby explained.
"If you just want to book a couple of lanes, that's no problem at all.
Just pre-pay for a couple of games, come in with your buddies, and roll away.
But if you want the full facility, we need to adjust who's on staff that day. "
After a brief discussion about the venue options, the lieutenant made his choice.
"Then I want to book the whole facility," he said. "I don't want the event to be ruined by some geezer throwing gutterballs. By the way, I'm going to be bringing in food."
"No problem, just if you're getting stuff delivered, have them call the alley to clear it." Sabby did her best to be polite. Feeling like she had to jab back at him and his attitude, she added, "We don't like to be ambushed by unexpected deliveries."
Okay, that was a bit of a low shot. But it wasn't like he knew Sabby knew about what Jess and Logan had done to him and his unit. For all he knew, she was just the chick with the two-toned hair who had watched him get his ass kicked. *But we don't talk about that, do we?*
Still he bristled slightly, and Sabby repressed a smirk. *Take that, motherfucker.*
"Fine. Anything else?"
"Yeah, all alcohol must be purchased through MWR," Sabby said. "Anything other than beer must be arranged beforehand so we've got it available. So what's the event?"
"Promotion party." He pulled out his ID. "I'm a captain now."
*After that fuckup?* Sabby wanted to ask. *God help your unit.*
"Okay, cool," Sabby said instead as she picked up the ID and looked at it. It still said lieutenant on it, but she knew that ID cards were one of those things people updated last. "So are you pinning the railroad tracks on during the party, Captain... Huffman?"
"Not quite, I'll be wearing my new rank come this weekend at my unit," Huffman said. "But next month is when I take over officially as the battalion operations officer. So I'll have a promotion and transfer ceremony at the same time."
He made it sound like he was the king shit, which just annoyed Sabby more. She knew enough from her sister and Brian Manheim to know that Huffman was nowhere near as important as he was letting on. More like a glorified paper-pusher with minimal command responsibilities.
Sabby took down all of the man's relevant information and put it into the computer before holding out her hand.
"Cash or credit for the deposit?" she asked. "Most folks use cards."
"Isn't my word as an officer enough for you?" Huffman asked.
Sabby just looked at him. If he wanted to be an ass, he could be an ass. She wasn't going to rise to the occasion, the White House could call and she'd still ask for the fifty dollar deposit. "Fine. Here."
He handed a debit card over and Sabby rung it up before handing it, and the receipt, back. "Here you are."
"Oh, one more thing." Captain Huffman put his wallet away, looked Sabby up and down, and sneered. "No karaoke."
He left, and as he walked out the door Sabby gave him her own personal salute, one that required only one finger. He was obviously salty, or maybe he had recognized Sabby's dig at him and had decided to get one of his own in on his way out.
Regardless, she put him out of her mind however as she went back to work, setting up customers with whatever they needed until Logan came in at around six o'clock, looking handsome and relaxed in a Guns N' Roses tank top and black knee-length basketball shorts. "Hey beautiful."
Sabby grinned, leaning in and stealing a quick kiss over the counter. "Hey handsome. Like the t-shirt?"
She stepped back, tugging her MWR uniform top off to model her new shirt for Logan, who nodded in appreciation.
"As beautiful and sexy as I could have hoped for. I'll be lying though if I didn't say I was hoping for a tighter fit," he said with a smirk. "But I appreciate you wearing it."
"If you want tighter, just gimmie a few hours with some black thread," Sabby assured him. "I already planned on distressing it, so I'll go to town. Next time you see it your tongue's gonna drop out of your mouth."
"That doesn't require a shirt," Logan assured her.
The funny thing was, Sabby knew Logan was being totally sincere. He always saw her as attractive, even the day she had pizza cheese in her hair.
"So how's your shift been?"
"Ups and downs, but a normal day," Sabby said. "Hey, got something to show you. Mind sticking around for twenty minutes until I take my dinner break?"
"Sure. I guess to kill the time, how about you set me up over there on lane four?" Logan asked. "I mean, I'm in here often enough that I should be able to at least bowl a one fifty."
Sabby chuckled, and got Logan set up. While she didn't see every throw he made, she did check the score monitor when she had the chance.
For a guy she'd never seen bowl before he did a good job, hitting a few strikes even.
But Sabby was certain her boyfriend was never going to be a member of the PBA tour, his method seemed to be to throw the ball as hard as he could, relying on the chaos of pins bouncing everywhere to make up for a lack of aim.
Still, as he joined her in the cafe where she pulled out a chicken club sandwich for her dinner, he was pleased. "Not bad for not having bowled since high school. So what did you want to show me?"
Sabby pulled out her laptop and pulled up the file she was looking for, showing it to Logan. "What do you think?"
An electrifying soldier, charging into a scene of chaos with jumper cables raised like weapons. A muscular figure with bolts in his neck, sparks flying from his hands, a hand-cranked generator at his feet. Behind him, an electrified, stylized C with a smaller 3-3 inside it.
"I like it." Logan nodded as he looked the mascot over. "I like that you left the soldier's face shaded, the electric eyes and smile. Where'd you get that?"
"The best graphic designers... steal blatantly from every artist else they can," Sabby said with a laugh. "I borrowed the idea from Disturbed and their titular character mostly, but the idea's been used in quite a few pieces of fantasy and horror artwork."
"It's good," Logan said. "So why'd you make it? I mean, it's awesome and you should show it to Major Kirk, he'd want that painted somewhere in the company area ASAP. But did he order it?"
"No, I did it because I wanted to." Sabby took her laptop back and closed it. "I'll admit, part of it's to thank Charlie Company and the 3-3 in general. Without them bending the rules, signing off on exceptions and more, I wouldn't have the chance I've had to make something of my life."
"I have to say, I'm glad for that too," Logan said. "So are you going to show it to the Major?"
"Sure. I could do one for Alpha and Bravo Companies too if they wanted.
But I've never really been big on cheering everyone on, not even my sister," Sabby said.
"I mean, I didn't want to be one of those rah-rah cheerleader types.
I was more of the quiet thanks type. Recently I've gained a new appreciation for the Army though. "
"Hmm... wonder why?"
"Whatever." Sabby rolled her eyes. "So how was your day?"
"I had my six-week counseling session with the chain of command," Logan replied, and for the next few minutes he told Sabby as many of the details as he could.
"So in the end, your sister was probably my harshest critic.
I've got a ways to go before I can start to reach the level she's set for me.
But the rest of my chain seemed okay with how I'm doing things. "
"Still unfair," Sabby growled. She knew Jess had to be professional with Logan, but this was too far. "Seriously, she may be my big sister but–"
"Cool your jets, Sabby," Logan said softly, chuckling.
"I didn't get to the good part. Afterwards, I talked with your sister about her critiques, and she explained why she has to be a hardass on me.
It makes sense. Basically, since we're together, she can't be seen playing favorites.
So she's going to fall on the side of being tough on me.
And that's okay, I can respect that. I want to keep learning from her, and if I transferred out, it would probably mean leaving the platoon if not the company.
I definitely don't want that, I just got my barracks room set up the way I like it.
So if Jess is harder on me when I'm on duty, so what? "
"So what?" Sabby asked.
Logan nodded, reaching over to take her hand. "You're more than worth it."
He gave Sabby's hand a squeeze, and she felt herself caught up in her feelings again. "But why, Logan? There's other units, you'd still be on post... why put up with all that just to work with my sister? Because she's closer to me?"
"Because," Logan said quietly, looking around, "I've realized something. I'm developing some serious feelings for you, Sabby. Even when we're not around, just knowing that I'm working with someone who shares some DNA with you means something to me. And protecting her means taking care of you, too."
"Logan." Sabby blinked quickly. "You're going to make me cry, and that's going to fuck up my mascara. Which is going to piss me off, and then I'll cry more."
"Okay then I'll wrap this up quickly," Logan said. "I did the math. You know, because I'm good at that shit. Factored in all the variables I could, and all the results point to one thing. My maximum happiness comes from staying the course. So... get used to me calling your sister Sarge."
"I can do that."
"Can I call her Muscle Mommy?" Logan teased, and Sabby groaned. "What? You do it too."
"Yeah," she said, laughing. "But my boyfriend calling my sister Mommy does not create good vibes."
"Good point."
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