PT 67: Knock Knock


A siren erupts across the base, loud enough to penetrate the inner walls and rooms. You lift your head, eyes wide.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

“That’s the alert for an inbound med evac,” Grisham says dryly. “Nothing to do with you.”

“Oh,” you lay back down again. “Good, I guess.”

“Contrary to the last day or so, not everything that goes wrong in the world is your fault,” Grisham adds, patting your sore bottom lightly.

The ache is starting to abate, and the sting as well. You’re starting to feel a little better, but the way Grisham deals with you doesn’t leave much room for ego. She’s relentless in enforcing her rule and that leaves you with the stark realization that you really are going to have to earn literally everything with her – even your uniform.

“Can I have some clothes?” You try your luck. “I’m cold.”

“You can have a t-shirt,” Grisham says, reaching over to her dresser to pull out another oversized white shirt.

You give her a puppy dog pleading look, but it doesn’t work.

“Put it on, or lose it,” she says firmly.

Restraining your muttering, you pull the shirt over your head. It comes to mid-thigh, giving you some kind of modesty, but you really, really miss pants.

“Good girl,” Grisham praises. “See, it’s not so hard behaving yourself, is it?”

You bite back a snarky response. The heat from her palm is still radiating from your butt and you don’t want another dose of her medicine.

“No, ma’am,” you mumble. “It’s a joy.”

The snarky response seems to have escaped your mouth in the form of sarcasm. Oops.

“Attitude, huh,” Grisham nods. “I see.”

“No, I didn’t mean it that way!” You step back, clutching the hem of the shirt. “Seriously. I’m sorry. Sometimes I talk and words happen.”

“Oh, words happen to you, do they? Sort of spontaneously?” There’s a deeply skeptical look in her brown eyes, but her cheek is dimpling a little and you’re pretty sure she’s finding it at least a little funny too.


There’s a brisk hammering at the door. It makes you jump, which makes Grisham chuckle.

“Grisham, you’re needed!” Someone shouts through the door. “Code 2!”

“Stay there,” Grisham says, rising to her feet swiftly. She reaches for her utility belt, which includes a couple pair of handcuffs, a taser, and a few other bits and pieces, none of which are good news. “You can watch television, or take a nap, but you are not to leave this room, understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” you agree as she leaves.

It’s difficult to get comfortable with a sore bottom. You can’t sit up to watch television and if you lay down its got to be on your stomach. You spent a whole lot of time trying to get comfortable.

You end up squirming uncomfortably with pillows propping you up so you can sort of watch TV without the worst of your butt making contact with anything firm. There’s nothing good on, just a weather report for the sixteen major colonies.

After about half an hour or so of dust storms, thunder bolts and patches of sun shine from five different star systems, the door opens behind you. Grisham is back.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” you say to her without turning around. “Haven’t moved a muscle. Not that I can move a muscle in my butt anyway.”

“Still in trouble, huh?”

A warm, melodic feminine voice makes you flip toward the door in a heartbeat.

It’s Terra. She’s standing there, large as life and twice as gorgeous. Her beauty makes you feel as though you’ve just been punched in the stomach. It is a shock seeing her features again, the blue of her eyes emphasized by the raven locks which frame her face. Little imperfections make her all the more alluring, the slight crows feet around the eyes, the laugh lines bracketing her mouth.

“Oh my god!” You leap off the bed and half-run to her, stopping just a step or two short of her.

Up close, there is something weary about her gaze, but she reaches out for you and pulls you into a hug, seeming pleased to see you just like you’re pleased to see her.

“Where are your pants, cadet?” She murmurs the question to the top of your head.

“Long story,” you reply, trying not to cry with relief as you inhale her scent and press yourself against her familiar feminine form.

“It always is with you,” she sighs. “I guess that saves me asking if you’ve stayed out of trouble.” Her eyes sparkle down at you as she releases you and looks you up and down with a wry smile.

“She hasn’t been too bad.”

Grisham’s voice follows Terra’s. She steps into the room and the door closes behind her, leaving the three of you all together in the one place. You notice that Grisham’s dark gaze is falling on Terra in much the same way it has fallen on you before. Her features are set in a stern kind of way, and there’s no obeisance in her expression.

A question rises in your mind: could Terra be in trouble?

Well, could Terra be in trouble, you think?

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