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By Ultracape


The men she picks. I mean, look at that bozo. Armani suit, Gucci shoes. If there were a draft, his daddy would probably have bought him out of it. What a total Bozo the Clown, Hey, Lowen the clown. Yeah, I like that.

ďHe drives a Porsche,Ē she says. Well, my sweet little Marine, I fly a Tomcat. Dip that in your club soda with lime and stir it.

And Bud, that gignoblobloba  you are scarffing down is going to your brain nuts. I do not lose every one of my partners. Okay, well, I guess I do, but not because of other men. Besides, if Mac and I were heating up the sheets, which weíre not (not that I wouldnít mind a roll in the hay with that bod of hers), thereís no way she would be interested in Lowen the clown or any of the other bozos who come panting after her.

Besides my other partners didnít leave me, they were transferred. Kate got a better assignment, so did Meg. They got something that they couldnít get carrying my briefcase. It had nothing to do with me. I mean sure, Kate and I danced the horizontal tango. But, well, it never really meant anything. And Meg, Meg was sweet, too sweet for a pain in the butt like me.

No, I need a real woman, one who knows the score, not some sweet young thing. Why canít Mac see thatÖthatÖthat...Lowen the clown doesnít want a feisty female. He wants some little yes girl to carry his briefcase and warm his bed, someone to laugh at his jokes and make him feel bigger than he is. Well even Macís stack wonít make three inches into nine.

What is happening to these people? I mean really, am I the only one who has a clue. F14s just donít disappear, not down waterspouts, not into alien spacecraft and not into the Bermuda Triangle. And Mac, is encouraging Budís fantasies just like she encourages that Clown. Well, she can encourage him all she wants, doesnít bother me one darn bit, but I would like to see that tattoo of hers. I would really, really like to see that tattoo of hers. And Iíd like to arm wrestle her if the stakes were right. Damn it, sheís my partner, the best damned partner Iíve ever had. Thereís no way Iím going to let my hormones rule my head with her, no matter how much I want to. Sheís just too good a friend for that. Doesnít she know that? Doesnít she know what she means to me?

Damn. It canít be that clown thatís got her so goo-goo-eyed. If she leaves for the civilian lawyer lifestyle, well, if thatís what she wants then thereís nothing I can do. And why would I do anything anyway. Itís not like weíd be able to do anything if, say, one of us were transferred, like Kate, like Meg. I mean, yeah, weíve been partners and friends and I would like to see her tattoo, butÖ.

But Bud isÖbrain nutsÖthatís what he is. First the Bermuda Triangle, then alien abductions, and now flying saucers. After working on a carrier I canít believe he canít tell afterburners from flying saucers. And those X-Filers had me wearing a blindfold. What I put up with to do my duty sometimes. Now I even have to find a purple water cooler. Wonder if I can get Webb to help out with that one.

Some patriots. Theyíre nothing but a bunch of Army washouts. I could easily kill them for what they almost did. Iím definitely going to defend the pilot. I mean, letís face it, in the end he sacrificed his wife and child for his duty to his country. Duty first. Thatís a man to emulate. Well, yeah, he did take the F14, but what the H was he supposed to do? Iíll get him off with maybe a reprimand.  Besides, if it were me, Iíd do the same. Duty first. Well, look at me.

Just look at me. Macís going to go off with Lowen the Clown -- like he even knows what sacrifice is, like heíd give up anything for a woman, like he wonít just use her and drop her when heís bored. And am I trying to get her to stay? No, Iím not. Duty first. Thatís integrity. Itís better that way.

Damn, damn, damn. If she leaves me, if she leaves, Iíll, Iíll, damn it. Iíll do my duty.

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