Fraternization

"Thank you, Airman Baird," she nodded with mock formality, "your discretion is certainly appreciated." Then, with a quick glance to make sure their driver had not fixed his mirror, she took his cheek in one hand and leaned over, giving him a long, lingering kiss. "I wish you didn't have to, though," she said wistfully.

Tom looked at the gorgeous officer sitting beside him and a pang of longing shot through his heart. You both know the rules, he reminded himself sternly. Breaking them a bit for a little fun is one thing; putting her career in jeopardy is another. No, they both knew that any relationship they might want was dead on the runway. The balance of power between officers and enlisted personnel was just too lopsided, and even mutually consensual relationships were forbidden, both because of fears of that power being abused and also to avoid any kind of favoritism. Enlisted personnel of varying ranks could date and marry as long as they were not in the same chain of command, but officer-enlisted relationships were strictly off-limits. Even close, platonic friendships were technically in violation of the anti-fraternization laws, let alone romantic or sexual relationships. Tom had been friends (not too closely) with a fighter pilot who secretly dated and then married an Airman First Class. When his commander had found out, he was demoted and his career was essentially finished; officers were not allowed to flout the rules, even if they were pilots.

"I know it sucks, but you know I always got your back, right LT?" Tom gave a crooked smile, trying to deflect the seriousness hidden in his sentiment with a show of humor.

"I know," she replied. "I just really liked it when you had my front as well." She smirked and gave her chest a little wiggle, causing her large breasts to jiggle in a most delightful manner.

Tom laughed and said, "You know you aren't making this any easier, right?"

Vanessa lowered her head contritely. "Sorry, sir."

"Sir?" he echoed in disgust. "It's 'sergeant,' ma'am; I work for a living."

Vanessa brightened up, glad to turn the conversation to anything happier than the impossibility of them having a relationship. "Hey, congratulations!"

"Thanks! I sewed on Staff while I was on leave before coming over here, which is why my ID card hasn't been updated yet."

"That's great!" she said and gave him a hug, this time more friendly than flirtatious. "Since you bring it up, I actually just made Captain a couple months back."

"Nice! Congrats to you too, then."

They were interrupted by the van turning into the parking lot and their driver asking which car was Vanessa's. She directed him to a silver Mercedes and Tom and the driver helped her transfer her bags from the van to her trunk. As she closed the lid their driver said, "I'll let you two say goodbye," and climbed back behind the wheel.

"So, ah, hey, let me give you my number before you go," Vanessa said. "If you're ever down this way for training or something, hit me up. Just because we can't officially be together doesn't mean that we can't be friends."

"Exactly," Tom agreed. "We're old war buddies, after all."

"Right. And you've got my back."

"You do have a nice back..." Tom smirked. "However," he added, patting his pockets, "I am an un-squared away Airman and do not have a pen."

"Don't worry about it, I'll shoot you an email on Global," Vanessa reassured him, referring to the Air Force's global address book in Outlook. "Now hurry up and go before the van leaves without you." She stepped in for another hug, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her supple body against his hard one. "I'm glad I could thank you properly for saving my life," she whispered into his ear.

"I'd say any debt you may have felt is more than repaid," he chuckled.

"Nah, that was a mutual exchange. Make sure you wash your hand before you eat," she giggled.

"Are you kidding? I'm never washing this hand again!"

Her giggle turned into a laugh. "Gross!" Leaning back slightly, she kissed him again, the tip of her tongue darting between his lips in just the briefest flash. Before he could react, she stepped away. He made to grab for her again but she spun away. "Thank you again, Sergeant Baird," she said, still laughing as she opened her car door. "For everything."

"Anytime, ma'am," he replied, smiling and shaking his head. She lowered herself into her vehicle and Tom climbed into the van, settling into the seat behind the driver this time. He had fixed the mirror and Tom caught his eye as Captain Vanessa Hodgekins' Mercedes pulled away.

"Quite the catch you've got there," the old man said appreciatively.

"I dunno about 'catch,'" Tom said, shaking his head ruefully. "She's a bit out of my league, if you know what I mean."

"I do indeed, son," the retiree said; he had noticed their respective ranks on their ID cards. "Still, catch and release can be fun, too."

Tom laughed. "Yes, sir! That it can."

"Besides," the old man continued as they exited the base and headed for the autobahn once again, "there are plenty other fish in the sea, and you are in the prime fisheries of Deutschland. No need to land the first one to nibble your worm."

Tom wasn't sure whether to be amused or embarrassed; obviously their driver had been more aware of what had taken place behind his back than he had previously let on. "Yes, sir, point taken," Tom grinned, deciding to go with amused. If the old man didn't have a problem with it, then neither did he.

The forests and fields drifted by as Tom once again settled back in his seat. He and his driver fell to chatting about Germany and military service, Tom happy to learn that his driver, Master Sergeant Bill Tompkins (retired), was an old Security Police troop from back before the career field had been revamped into Security Forces. They told stories comparing the Air Force then and now, Tom soaking up pointers and advice about his new duty location as the miles passed beneath the rolling wheels.

At last they lapsed into silence and Tom fell to thinking of Vanessa. He was not sure what the future held in store, but one thing was certain: there was no way he was ever going to get to have a serious relationship with her. Part of him felt the pangs of loss, but he pushed that aside, reminding himself that his driver was right. He was a young, single Staff Sergeant, newly arrived in Germany with at least three years ahead of him in some of the richest fishing grounds a bachelor like him could ask for. It was going to be a good time.