A Love Forged Under Fire

Author's Note: For those of your who are looking for a story with immediate and gratuitous sex, please stop here. This is a tale of self-discovery, unexpected attraction, and love between two Honolulu police officers. Because of their particular sexual persuasion, this story takes time to develop. Hopefully, you will hang in there and be satisfied with the tale. Enjoy the telling.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My name is Ryan Conners, and I have been a Honolulu police officer for nearly four years. Strangely, I can attribute me becoming a law enforcement officer to that lousy lying Army recruiter who sold me a bill of goods that being a military police officer was one of the best rear area jobs. Yeah, right, smoke and mirrors.

Towards the end of my enlistment contract, I pulled a tour in Afghanistan that showed me that what was supposed to be isn't always true. The so-called rear area quickly became a hot combat zone especially when the Taliban often took the fight to us. Coming under the threat of fire while conducting area security or escort duties, and not knowing who was an ally, a battle-harden foe, or an innocent bystander kept me constantly vigilant and on edge. That deployment convinced me that it was time to head for greener pastures while I had all my bodily parts and wits intact.

When I mustered out of the Army, I was given a choice as to where I would like to start my civilian life. Since my parents had passed away and I had no immediate family or friends waiting for me, I elected to separate from active duty in Hawaii. I had spent a short tour with the 25th Infantry Division located at Schofield Barracks on the island of Oahu and had enjoyed the laid-back lifestyle and people.

With no saleable skills other than policing, I applied for and got accepted by the Honolulu Police Department that handled the capital island of Oahu. Transitioning from military policing to civilian police life was relatively smooth and after a period of being checked out and tested by those whom I worked with, I found acceptance and the comradery that I had in the Army among Honolulu's men in blue.

Compared to the day-to-day struggles to survive the combat dangers of my previous military life, dealing with drunk drivers, domestic disputes, disorderly conduct, and other petty offenses was nothing. However, after four years on the job, I began to wonder if this existence was all that that the future had in store for me. That was then that Life threw me an unexpected curveball in the form of Marilani Souza, a rookie cop who was fresh out of the police academy.

"Ryan," said my lieutenant in a rare closed-door session, "You have kept your nose clean for the last four years...stayed out of trouble...and have been rock-steady and consistent in whatever has come your way..."

"Oh, fuck! I am about to get screwed," screamed in my head as I tried desperately not to cringe. "Every time a higher-up starts out by uttering such sentiments, the big "Wham-O" is sure to follow. Here it comes...the damn 'BOHICA' (aka 'Bend Over, Here It Comes Again')!"

"Since our station covers Waikiki and the surrounding neighborhood, police academy graduates start their first year here. In our district, they will encounter everything that might involve a police officer. To keep these newbies from getting into trouble and to break them correctly, they are paired with more seasoned officers such as yourself.

"Your fellow officers with more seniority have already gotten the views of the academy's cadre regarding the members of the graduating class and have made their choices as to with whom they would like to be partnered. Since you were recently added to the veteran-rookie partnering program and have the least seniority, you are to be partnered with the rookie that everyone else passed on."

When he saw the look on my face, my lieutenant quickly stammered, "Now, before you get all ape-shit about being forced to partner with someone whom nobody wanted, let me tell you a bit about your future partner.

"Her name is Marilani Souza but prefers to be called 'Mari.' She is twenty-four, not bad looking, and has a pretty athletic figure...here, take a look at her file picture. She is of Portuguese-Hawaiian-Chinese ancestry, stands at five-eight, and weighs under one-fifty pounds. Mari is a jock and excelled physically in high school and the police academy. On top of that, she graduated from a local community college with an associate in criminal justice before entering the academy."

"Okay, lieutenant, if this Mari is that good, why is she the least desirable? I mean, come on, what is the real reason all of the guys passed on her?"

My lieutenant squirmed as if he was trying to disappear. Failing in doing that, he finally said, "This is not supposed to be a consideration...I mean the department could get into big trouble if was ever to be discovered that this was being discussed. It seems that Mari is gay...like flaming lesbian...big-time dyke-ville...and quite outspoken and defensive about her sexuality. A lot of guys can't relate to (or handle) a rookie partner who looks like a woman but acts like a guy...and shoves her 'butchiness' in your face if you know what I mean?"

I was stunned at what I had heard, and yet, at the same time, not surprised. I remembered how women were not readily accepted in the Army Military Police and especially in a combat zone. I also recalled when I entered the department as an outsider with no local ties or roots, and how I struggled to break into and become a part of the "fraternal" order of police officers. In the end, my low-key (and often humble) approach, calmness, and willingness to put in long hours without griping got me accepted.

The fact that everyone knows that Mari was a known butch meant that she had openly and proudly declared her way of life. It also meant that her declaration would serve as a lightning rod for those in the force who were homophobic whether overtly or covertly, or those who were upset at being denied a chance to score with a naïve female rookie. I realized Mari's battle to become accepted would be greater than mine.

Looking my lieutenant in the eye, I clearly said, "Don't worry, sir. I'll take Mari and do my best to be her mentor and more. When do I get a chance to meet her?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~`

My first face-to-face meeting with Mari was one of anticipation and trepidation for both of us. When we shook hands upon the lieutenant's introduction, I knew we were immediately checking the other out. I imagined that Mari saw a buff, pale-skinned, blue-eyed, blond who was several inches taller than her. While I had been told that I was good-looking, I only saw myself as being so-so.

To me, Mari was a natural cosmopolitan beauty who wore only a little makeup to enhance her rich brown eyes and inviting lips. I couldn't tell much about her body shape or features due to her dark-blue service uniform and gear but from what the lieutenant has said, I would have expected her to be athletically trim. Despite her efforts to seem friendly, there was a certain cautiousness and defensiveness in Mari.

"I heard," uttered Mari after the lieutenant left us, "that I was the last rookie to be selected. That makes you were the unfortunate 'stuckee' in the matter. Ryan, I want to be straight with you from the very get-go and so before you start hinting and putting the move on me, I'm gay... like into women...and am the dominant type."

"That's okay," I said calmly, "I'm straight...love women...and have never heard any complaints from my ex-lovers. I'm cool with your sexual preference as I hope you are with mine.

"However, please understand that if I do ask questions about you, it will be to get to know you better since we will be partners for the next year or so. Sitting in a patrol car with a total stranger is a bit hard especially since we are assigned to the night shift. However, that being said, if you feel that I'm getting too personal or out of line, just tell me to 'fuck off' and I'll apologize and back off. Is that okay with you? It is? Good, then let's get rolling, partner, and I'll show you our motor beat."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~`

Over the next few months, Mari and I got to comfortably know each other as we patrolled in our squad car. Wanting to set an example, I started the sharing process by talking about myself to casually pass the time.

"I was a "what the hell" child who was born to a couple in their mid-forties and who thought that they would never have kids. We live in a small little town in which my father was the school's handyman and custodian and my mother worked in the school's cafeteria. Things were tight on our family's small budget and I learned to go without a lot of things and social pleasures that most kids took for granted.

"While I was friendly to all, I was quiet and pretty much a loner who didn't hang around with any particular crowd. My grades were above average but I sucked at sports and had no inclination for extracurricular activities.

"When I was about to graduate, I sat down with my parents about what I should do after high school. I was surprised when they stated that they were barely making ends meet, couldn't afford to support me in college or trade school, and only had a small nest egg for their impending retirements. They followed this up by pointing out that there were very few employment opportunities in our town as evidenced by their jobs.

"My dad then surprised me by saying that I should join the military like he had done when he was my age. He mentioned that an Army recruiter was scheduled to stop by our school to enlist those who were interested in serving their country. Since I had taken the ASVAB (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) as part of my career exploration class, talking to a military recruiter would be my chance."

"So, what made you enlist in the Army and more so the Military Police, Ryan?"

"Sergeant First Class Ambrose Pierce of the United States Army...that lousy son-of-a-bitch set his eyes on (and teeth into) me the moment I approached his table. Smooth-talking and convincing as all hell, he quickly shot down his military competitors:

'Those fly-boys will try to dazzle you about flying jets or operating high tech stuff but what they don't tell you is that your chances of getting one of those glamorous jobs are contingent on having a college degree or years of technical training.

'You can join the Navy but you'll end up stuck on a ship in the middle of an ocean for half a year at a time. You better not drop your soap bar in the showers with a bunch of naked horny queer sailors around you, if you know what I mean.

'Those Marines will say that they are the elite fighting force and the first in a combat situation. What they forget to tell you is that they are also the first to die. No, Ryan, the Army is the only way to go. So, what are you interested in doing?'

"I recalled after showing him my ASVAB score and my last report card, mentioning that I didn't want anything too technical or that would require a lot of education or training. I said that I wanted something that wouldn't put me on the battle line or in danger, and lastly that I want a military occupation that I could use in civilian life after the military."

"I've got the perfect Army job for you -- the military police. It's a military occupation that consists of a nineteen-week course that almost no one fails. When you're finished, you're like a cop who enforces the law, investigates crimes, and safeguards important areas. You're assigned to the rear area...not the front lines. And when you get out, you can apply to law enforcement agencies like the FBI. Can't beat that in today's Army."

"And was he telling you the truth, Ryan?" asked Mari.

"Hell no! The son-of-a-bitch was lying through his shiny white teeth! What he didn't tell me was that in today's war, there is no distinct front-line and rear-area. The enemy comes at you from all sides, and you're constantly alert for the telltale signs that you're about to be ambushed or attacked. I've been out of service four years and I still get jumpy in times of danger.

"Whew, that was a mouthful, but enough about me. What about you, Mari?"

"Jeez, compared to you, my life has been rather boring. But since you asked, I am the youngest of seven children...yeah, my parents believed in have a large family. The only thing is that I was the only girl with six older brothers. My mother was delighted as you can tell by my rather girlish name, but I think...no, I know...that my dad was disappointed that I was a girl.

"My old man was determined that although I was biologically a girl, he would raise me as a boy. Although my brothers protected me from others, they had no qualms about bullying me. When I would go crying to my dad, he would spank me and tell me to stop being a sissy girl and learn to stand up for myself. He showed me how to defend myself and wasn't hesitant to teach me the hard way even if it bordered on child abuse.

"What did your mother say to all of this?"

"Mom didn't disagree with my dad that a girl needed to learn how to defend herself. However, she spoke up when my dad got a little too rough and went after my brothers with her wooden spoon if they were being particularly nasty to me. She did insist, however, that I have a room of my own...I was a girl after all...and shouldn't be sleeping in the same room with boys, even if they were my brothers. So, she made dad renovate a portion of the attic for my room. It's hot and small...but it's mine.

"Ultimately, I could hold my own with my brothers...albeit with a few black eyes and split lips...but on both parties. Eventually, my brothers accepted that I had a low tolerance for being bullied and left me alone. By the time I entered high school, I was definitely a tomboy who was more comfortable in jeans and t-shirts than frilly dressed and other feminine attire."

"However, me turning gay didn't happen until my senior year in high school. I was a part of my school's basketball team that had a good shot at the State's championship. I was the starting forward and the team co-captain with the starting point guard, Faith. We were immediately drawn to each other in a way I didn't understand at the time and I was quick to dismiss it as being teammates and good friends.

"We didn't discover our special attraction until we both had turned eighteen and were in a hotly contested game with our cross-town rival. Faith managed to steal the ball, swiftly outmaneuvered the other team's defenders, and made a swift run at the basket for an easy lay-up. However, as she left her feet, the opposing team's center blatantly body-checked Faith, sending her flying to solidly smashing into the hardwood court floor.

"I just saw red and the next thing I remember was me punching out with the opposing team's center who had four inches in height over me and at least sixty pounds. The coaches and referees pulling me off my battered opponent, and I was ejected from the game and suspended for the next three games.

"Needless to say, my coach and teammates let me know that they were upset that I had been ejected, suspended, and jeopardized the team's championship run. In total disgust, they left the left locker room with my coach yelling at me as he departed to clear out my locker and to lock up after I showered and changed

"I felt like the lowest of the lowest, and stood naked and alone, sobbing pitifully in the showers. That is until I felt a tender caress and heard, "Thank you, Mari, for being so strong and coming for my defense."

'I turned and found myself in Faith's embrace as she held me to her naked wet body. Pulling on my face down, she tenderly and then enthusiastically kissed me in a way that shocked me. 'I've wanted you for so long,' Faith murmured as she sensuously rubbed her slippery wetness against mine, 'And I will have you...right here...right now.' And did she."

"Hey, Mari, you don't have to say anything more..."

"Nah, I've got no problems talking about my sexuality. While Faith was the initiator, I soon became the dominant once I got over the surprise of being in a girl-on-girl relationship. Faith was the first person to show me affection and introduce me to passion and sex. However, although I have had several female-female affairs, I still am looking for that special lover, if you know what I mean?"

"Surprisingly, Mari, I do. I've known women but my relationships with them were somehow lacking. With nothing else but sex and companionship between us, it was a matter of time before either they or I slipped away, ending whatever we might have shared."

"Well, I hope you find that special woman, Ryan, and here's hoping that I find the lover that I am looking for."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mari and I might have continued to be good partners on the job and buddies who shared a breakfast or two after the shift if it wasn't for that fateful dispatch call. It was well into the evening shift when we were tersely told that there was a report of a landlord-tenant dispute, and as the closest unit, we were to respond. Acknowledging that we were on the way, we headed to an old-time wooded neighborhood on the Waikiki slopes of Diamond Head.

It was pitch black when we approached the address of concern. An elderly woman frantically flagged us down and identified herself as the landlord who had called for help. Evidently, her long-time tenant who lived on the second story of her house had been drinking heavily and when she approached him to be quieter, he became agitated and abusive, bordering on becoming violent. Fearing he might not be in his right mind and for her safety, she fled her house and called 9-1-1.

Rather than drive up the tree-lined driveway with blue lights flashing, I opted to park our patrol car on the lane and walk up the driveway to the house in the least threatening manner possible. We had almost reached the house when the second-floor balcony suddenly became lit and a scraggy grey-haired man appeared.

"So, you call the fucking cops on me! I'll show you!" was what he yelled at his landlady who was by our patrol car and at us before disappearing into the house. When he reappeared, he had what looked like an AR-15 rifle. I then saw him jam a magazine in and heard that all too familiar sound of a round being chambered.

When he lowered his rifle in our direction. I instinctively dove for cover and in the process tackled stunned and clueless Mari, knocking her behind the trunk of a nearby large ironwood tree. The next moment several rounds slamming into the driveway where we had just been standing and more rounds then followed, hitting and splintering our protective hard-wood tree.

I hastily called in that we were under fire by a lone active shooter from the second-story balcony. When I saw Mari cowering in shock, I yelled, "Mari! Get it together! Draw your weapon! When I return fire, you look around your side of this damn tree, and if you see the fucking shooter, shoot the bastard before he kills us!"

With that said, I waited until the shooter ran out of ammo and started to reload. Quickly looking around the tree to quickly acquire his location, I firing several rounds in his direction, causing the shooter to duck. An instant later, I heard Mari discharge her weapon, pinning down the shooter who had dropped flat to the balcony floor.

Before we knew it, the night was shattered by wailing sirens, blue flashing lights, and the hustling of bodies in blue with weapons drawn. Fortunately, when faced with overwhelming firepower, the shooter quickly surrendered and was hauled away. Mari and I were subsequently directed to report back to the station to complete the pain-in-the-ass forms and begin the formal debriefing process that occurred whenever a police officer discharged his/her issued sidearm.

Besides the lab guys who were gathering and documenting evidence, all other responding units had departed before Mari and I could get into our squad car and leaving the site of the shooting. I was about to head on back to the station as directed when I glanced at Mari and found her shaking uncontrollably with her hands shoved between her legs as she turned towards her passenger-door window.