“I’m going to eat this man alive,” announced Chuck at lunch time. He’d just finished getting Archie settled in, had barely survived it with his dignity intact, and was itching for another go. 

Bee didn’t even deign to look up from the crossword puzzle magazine that she’d propped up next to her plate. An actual, old-fashioned paper magazine, because she liked the texture of it. She said that the cheaper the paper, the more porous it was, which was apparently a desirable thing in her world. She also claimed that beige paper smelled better than white one. Like most things about Bee, Chuck accepted this wisdom at face value.

Their plates were already empty, of course, because his friend would never be as uncivilized as to fill crossword puzzles while her food was getting cold, and Chuck had gotten into the habit of just shoveling whatever the cafeteria staff gave him into his face at light speed, lest someone else try to nab a bite out of his plate. 

It hadn’t happened yet, granted, but he saw the surprised and lustful look of temporary visitors and new recruits whenever they ate at the bunker for the first time. One of those days someone would try their luck, and Chuck would have to defend his food. The cafeteria of CSS Trout hadn’t been awarded the Best Mess Food prize, as voted by the entire body of Castullan soldiers assigned to stationary posts, for four years in a row for no reason. Their cook could get it.

(The actual reason why the food was so good was that CSS Trout had to be constantly ready to welcome the members of the Castullan government in the event of a vaporizer incident, and, as they said, ‘Kings didn’t eat baloney’. So the menus were always as fancy as they had to be, just in case the King dropped by for a surprise visit without warning. Regardless, the cook could also get it. Those two facts could and did coexist.)

“Your new superior officer,” said Bee in a flat voice, a propos of Chuck’s declaration. 

He had to take a second to remember what he’d been saying, given as he’d gotten distracted in his own head thinking about paper smells and inappropriate uses of cafeteria food. Then he started thinking about inappropriate use of cafeteria food with the major involved. Huh. Intriguing. He’d have to revisit that train of thought later, preferably at home and alone.

“Hmm… yeah. You should see him, Bee. He’s got like, this voice and also long, sexy legs topped by a perfectly plump, juicy —” he made little squeezy motions with his fingers and grunted.

She scribbled something on the side of the puzzle grid then absently tapped the edge of her plate with the end of her fancy ballpoint pen. It was a foreign brand that she ordered from all the way across the solar system and she got very aggravated when Chuck stole them, but they wrote so smoothly that he just couldn’t help himself. Bee sure knew her stuff when it came to stationery.

“Your boss.”

“I swear he’s into me, Bee. We had this, like, one-on-one talk in one of the conference rooms, and we connected, you know. I’m telling you, I’m going to be” — he made another horny hand motion that she didn’t even glance at — “making wrinkles in his absurdly neat jacket before you know it. And his hair! Guh, I wanna fuck up his hair so bad.”

“The major,” she deadpanned again. “Who’s on top of you in the chain of command.”

“Heck yeah, I want him to be on top of me. If you know what I mean.”

This time she finally put down her pen and subjected him to the full strength of her flat stare. That was fine, he was pretty immune to it by now.

“I’m running out of ways to hint that this is a bad idea, Chuck.”

“You’re being insensitive, Bee. These are matters of the heart!”

She pulled a face. Her dubious look was excellent and well-honed. (He knew that for a fact; he’d caught her practicing facial expressions in the mirror a few times. He’d tried doing it too before leaving for work in the morning and decided that it was great for his self-esteem. His face, it turned out, was really handsome and he had more range in his eyebrows than he’d thought.)

“Try several inches lower than your heart, bud.”

“I mean, that too,” he admitted with a laugh. “But I really, genuinely like the guy! I just think I’d like him even more without his clothes on.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, just like he’d practiced in the mirror.

She wasn’t moved. “Say that a little bit louder please, so that HR really knows what to put down on that workplace harassment complaint you’re shopping for.”

Chuck let his head fall down on the table with a thunk.

“I’m not an idiot, Bee,” he whined and pointedly ignored her snort. “I know I shouldn’t be lusting after my boss in front of my boss!”

“You shouldn’t be lusting after your boss in front of anybody.”

“I’m not! It’s just us here!”

She rolled her eyes. “Just us and a cafeteria full of soldiers that do nothing but eavesdrop and gossip all day.”

He scoffed. “No one’s gonna snitch on me. Squealing Gulls Puncture Hulls.”

“No one’s gonna have to snitch on you because you’re going to snitch on yourself, my bud. You’ve got all of the subtlety of an explosion. DON’T — ” she added when he raised his head with a grin to make an explosion-related innuendo.

Chuck upturned his lips in an exaggerated pout. “That’s not very groovy of you, Bee. It’s like you’re trying to rain on my parade.”

“I’m trying to prevent you from torpedo-ing your career over some stuck-up white guy, but sure, Chuck. Be like that.”

He tossed his head backwards and groaned dramatically. When she put it like this, he couldn’t exactly be mad at her. She was his friend and was trying to act like it. But she was also being a major pain in his ass.

(And not exactly the Major he wanted in his ass, heh.)

“It’s not a crime to date your boss, though,” he pointed out like a plea. He even brought his hands together in supplication, trying to melt her cruel heart. “It’s not a smart idea, but it’s not the worst one I’ve ever had either.”

She was still leveling him with an absolutely deadpan stare. She excelled at those, and he knew that she could keep it up all day if she wanted to.

“So what I’m hearing is: ‘Let me be a big damned idiot, Bee, what could possibly go wrong.’”

“Yes! Exactly, you get it! And if it doesn’t work out, you’ll even get to say ‘I told you so’! It’s your favourite!”

“I don’t need your permission to say ‘I told you so.’”

“I’m just going to approach this slowly,” Chuck decided, trying to finagle a plan of action to bang Major Archie that would net him his best friend’s approval. Or at least get her to stop looking at him like that. “I’ll romance him nice and slow and I won’t put my career on the line at all, I promise!”

There was a short silence. Then Bee slowly, deliberately leaned her cheek on her hand and Chuck got the obscure but increasingly powerful feeling that she was letting him have that silence, like a predator toying with a cornered prey. A last reprieve, handed to him like mocking charity before she annihilated him with an argument that he wouldn’t be able to counter. Chuck shifted uneasily on his chair, every part of his primal brain lighting up with instinctual terror. Then Bee smiled at him sweetly and delivered the killing blow.

“Huh-huh. And how do you intend to do that without coming across like you’re looking to cheat on your wonderful young bride, whom you only just married?”

Chuck felt his eyes go wide and all the blood drain from his face. 

Bee picked up her magazine nonchalantly and clicked her pen. It punctuated the sudden silence between them like the efficient rattle of a laser turret retracting back into it’s slot after firing the killing shot.

“You didn’t think about that, did you? In two months of wedding preparations, not once did you consider the impact that marrying me would have on your dating life.”

“… an oversight,” he squeaked.

“Hmmm,” she agreed, crossing out a line with calm finality. “Pity. Now who’s going to peel Major Montgomery out of his clothes?”