Page 15 of Relentless Surrender

“Screw them. Let them send out their own grunts to polish their insignias.”

Sage laughed. The somewhat good-natured animosity between the military branches was well known amongst those who lived in D.C.

* * *

For her turn, she took him to one of her favorite places, the Corcoran Gallery of Art. One of the best things about D.C. was all the free Smithsonian museums so it seemed silly to pay for a membership to such a small gallery like the Corcoran but she loved it. It reminded her of the museums in Europe. Its galleries were small with jewel toned walls with the perfect mixture of art and sculpture.

“Do you like art?”

“I’m not going to lie. When I head to a new city, I’m not beating down the door of the local museum but I certainly appreciate art. I like the cultures it represents more than the individual pieces. I like how it speaks for a society’s beauty and knowledge. You know when we go into an area torn apart by war that is one of the first things they want protected. Their art. You have to respect that.”

“Wow. I never really thought about what you do like that. The media always portrays it so differently.”

“Allot of what I do is just getting normal people back to a sense of normalcy. Sometimes it is as simple and as complicated as that. It’s not all bombs, guts and glory,” he said with a smile. “Now, show me some of this art of which you speak,” he said, lightening the mood.

Sage took him all around the gallery. Especially showing him her favorite sculpture, the Veiled Nun.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Sage asked, staring in wonder.

“She certainly is,” said Conner, although he wasn’t looking at the sculpture.

* * *

“How about we grab a pint at the Dubliner and then I promise I will take you home?”

“Okay,” agreed Sage.

She had spent the entire day with Conner. They had laughed, talked, and seen the sights. She even had her very first hot dog from a street vendor, something she thought she would never venture to do. He was warm, funny, charming, and intelligent. The best date she had ever been on.

It was awful!

It was bad enough when he was just this exceptionally hot guy in a uniform but now that she got to know him it was worse! What the hell! This was exactly what she was trying to avoid. Sage didn’t want to get to know this side of him. It would make the intolerably - albeit reluctantly sexy - arrogant Neanderthal side of him more bearable. Plus, it would just make it harder when the inevitable other shoe dropped. They hadn’t talked about it specifically but he had mentioned he was just on leave. Hell, he didn’t even have a home. He was crashing at a buddy’s house!

When they got to Dubliner’s the place was packed.

“Perhaps we should just call it a night,” offered Sage.

Just then she heard a shout, “Captain! Over here.”

Conner placed a hand at her lower back and guided her through the crowd to a long table along the back right. As soon as they neared the table, everyone seated suddenly jumped up at attention. Sage was astounded.

Conner solemnly nodded his head in greeting. Two men immediately relinquished their seats for them.

Sage sent a questioning glance to Conner. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “Respect.” She smiled.

As soon as Conner was settled with a pint and she with a glass of wine, the war stories started.

A fun loving Second Lieutenant nicknamed Hippie, because he liked to wear his hair an “unruly” inch long as opposed to the close cropped “high and tight” favored by everyone else including Conner, regaled her with stories about Conner.

“I think she’s heard enough about my deployments, Hippie,” groaned Conner.

“Ah, Captain. I can’t leave off without telling her about Operation Strike the Sword!” complained Hippie.

“Operation Strike the Sword? Seriously? That’s a real thing?” asked Sage.

“Of course!”

“You boys read too many comic books when you were little,” griped Sage, which earned her a good-natured laugh about the table.

---