Kristen took a steadying breath and resumed staring at the far bulkhead. “No sir, I don’t imagine you do. Otherwise you could never have asked me such a question,” she finished, knowing she’d gone too far but, for the moment at least, not caring. Her temper had always been her greatest weakness, and even after years of trying to control it, she hadn’t quite mastered it.
Brodie nodded thoughtfully as he stepped in front of her, his eyes settling on her once more. But the hard eyes were gone, as was the smirk. Instead, he looked calm and almost reserved. “Sit down please, Lieutenant,” he told her easily enough. He took his previous seat and motioned for her to sit across from him.
Kristen stood motionless, still reeling from the rollercoaster of emotions she’d experienced during the last few minutes. Brodie looked back up at her and again motioned toward the seat across the small table. “Have a seat, Lieutenant. Please don’t make me have to order it.” Brodie then looked at Graves and nodded, “Spike can come in now.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” the XO replied smartly, and then the door opened behind her.
Kristen took a tentative step, her legs trembling slightly. She did as ordered and took a seat. She placed her left hand into her right, clenching them together tightly to stop them from shaking. She didn’t dare look across the table. She was still angry and assumed he was about to inform her that her services were no longer required. She’d given him the perfect excuse to be rid of her.
Bastard.
The door opened and the fireplug of a chief petty officer stepped in. He glanced at the XO and his expression seemed to ask, “How bad was it?”
The XO cringed in response.
Kristen didn’t know if these two were in on the game as well, and she no longer cared. As she was considering her fate, the captain slid a folded hand towel across the table to her. He’d retrieved it from a drawer built into the bulkhead.
“Why don’t you dry off some, Lieutenant?”
Kristen looked at the towel and then glanced up at him. He was again leaning back in his seat, looking quite comfortable, his right forearm resting on the table and his fingers tapping gently on the surface. Kristen took the towel with a trembling hand and dried the rainwater from her face. The XO straddled a chair facing her as COB leaned against the bulkhead with a satisfied expression, his powerful arms folded across his barrel chest.
Kristen took a few breaths, still feeling the after-effects of the adrenaline coursing through her veins. It had taken all of her control not to strike the stupid smirk off her captain’s face. She sat up, putting the towel back on the table between them, cursing herself for allowing him, or anyone, to make her lose control
She looked around the small cabin. Behind the door, folded up and out of the way, was a Versaclimber workout machine. She hadn’t noticed it when she’d first come in because it was stored against the wall behind the door. Otherwise, the cabin was, as she’d first observed, devoid of any other memorabilia or personal effects.
She forced calmness back into her voice as she spoke, knowing she had to apologize. “Sir,” Kristen said as she glanced back up at her captain, “please allow me to apologize for my outburst. It was uncalled for and disrespectful.”
Brodie glanced down at his fingernails, studying them for a moment. Kristen noticed there was some dirt under them. “I certainly wouldn’t make a habit of it, Lieutenant,” he replied almost casually.
“No, sir,” she managed. She had never been good at reading people’s expressions, and his was even more of a mystery. He didn’t look angry, nor did he look offended by her outburst. What game he was playing she could only guess, for surely this was a game.
“Spike,” Brodie said as he looked over at COB, “please have Gibbs come here.”
Kristen had no idea who “Gibbs” was. In fact, she was still a little uncertain just what was going on. COB opened the door, and a slightly built steward appeared. Kristen saw he was a qualified submariner by the embroidered dolphins on his smartly pressed coveralls and he was carrying a serving tray. Apparently, the steward had expected his captain’s summons.
“Timely as ever, Mister Gibbs,” Brodie greeted the steward.
“I noticed the Lieutenant forgot her umbrella and thought hot coffee would be just the thing, sir,” the steward said as he set the tray down and began pouring.
Kristen had been confused and then angry. Now, she was completely disarmed. The steward gave her a warm, welcoming smile as he served her, offering her cream or sugar. Kristen didn’t drink coffee and accepted the cup simply out of politeness.
“Thank you, Mister….”
The captain had used “Mister” when addressing the enlisted man. Normally a rank and last name was used, and she briefly wondered why Brodie added the superfluous “Mister.”
“Gibbs, ma’am.” The steward offered a hand. “Welcome aboard the Seawolf, Lieutenant,” he added as he shook her hand. “If you need anything, anything at all, you just let me know and I’ll—”
“Thank you, Mister Gibbs,” Brodie cut him off.
Gibbs left the serving tray and excused himself. Kristen sat motionless, savoring the warmth of the coffee cup in her hand. Her guard was up once more as she waited for the next surprise. The captain had gotten under her skin with unexpected ease, and she was determined not to let it happen again.
“Is the coffee not to your liking, Lieutenant?” he asked as he set his half-empty cup down.
“I don’t drink coffee, sir,” she replied honestly, although not very tactfully she realized too late.
He nodded thoughtfully and glanced at COB. Kristen followed his gaze and saw COB offer her a look as if she’d just spat on the Virgin Mary.
“I can get Gibbs back in here,” Brodie offered. “We have juice, water…whatever you like.”
Kristen suspected he was toying with her again, but she wasn’t going to play his game. “Some hot tea would be nice, Captain,” she replied.
Brodie glanced up at COB who shrugged his shoulders. “I doubt he’s got anything like that, Skipper.”
“Would you please check before the Lieutenant catches pneumonia?” Brodie asked easily enough. The tone of voice being used between the three men was conversational, as if they were close friends and not separated by the rigid lines of convention expected of rank. They were almost casual with one another.
COB stepped out, leaving Brodie and the XO alone with her. Kristen sat still, saying nothing, unsure what was about to happen. Her initial thoughts about her captain were that he was a jerk, and nothing had happened to change her mind. So she was keeping her thoughts to herself. She hated him for having caused her to lose her composure, and she was angry at herself for having let him get to her. She looked at Graves, whose facial expression was noncommittal.
“I must confess,” Brodie began, “we hadn’t expected you so soon, and we still aren’t really sure just what we’re going to do with you.”
At least he’s being honest.
“Sir, I’m not looking for any special consideration. I just want to be treated like any other officer on board. ” It was the same prepared answer she’d used a thousand times before. Fortunately, it was the truth.
Brodie chuckled slightly and glanced at Graves. Graves smiled with a bit of sympathy for her. The captain exhaled deeply as he readjusted his position and faced her. “I don’t think you understand, Lieutenant,” he explained. “It’s not going to be that simple.”
Kristen had expected this argument and was ready for it. “Sir, I can sleep on a hammock in the torpedo handling room. That’s where the SEALs sleep when onboard most submarines, and as far as head facilities are concerned, whatever arrangements you decide I will accept without complaint, I swear.” Because of the limited space on all submarines yet designed, there were no separate facilities on board for females.