Page 42 of Metal & Mud

"Shoot, Sarge."

Adams stood up, and smoothed her uniform top down. "You seem to make my sister happy. Good. I know you two are... having fun together. Fine. I'm not her mommy. Not even her muscle mommy, and yes I know you've heard the joke. But if you hurt Sabby... Logan, I swear to god above, fuck the regs, fuck the stripes. I will be coming for you, and there will be trouble."

Logan stood up, and offered Adams a hand. "I hurt Sabby, Jessica, and I promise you'll get first crack at fucking me up over it."

Adams thought about it for a moment, and shook his hand. "Then let's get back to work. And that better be the last time I hear my name out of your mouth until you pin on your next promotion."

Logan grinned, nodding. "Deal."

* * *

20

SABBY

If there was one type of song that Sabby wished existed more in metal, it was love songs. Not that the genre was totally lacking in love songs... if you wanted to scream about toxic relationships, or kinky sex, or something else that lived in the world of the less than romantic.

But actual romantic love songs? Songs that talked about the way a girl felt when her heart wanted to soar over the heavens and even her heaviest boots felt like flip flops? Songs that talked about how she chose her clothes now not just to look sexy in general, but to look sexy for one very special person? Or how even the thought of him left her knees quivering with anticipation of the next time he'd be there between them?

Those were few and far between, with most metal fans deriding the tunes as being too soft and sappy for metal. If it wasn't about torrid fucking that may or may not involve the flow of blood, most metalheads didn't want to hear it.

And Sabby got it. Metal was music for vanquishing your enemies, for taking on the world and kicking ass while you did it.

Also, she generally detested emotional songs as too whiny. Pop singers made everything seem shallow, as if pink bubblegum and a red rose could in any way replicate the feelings she had inside. Probably because most pop singers were aiming for the tweeny-bopper market, where love was intense... and cookie sheet shallow.

Meanwhile, regular rockers either sounded like they were losing their minds, or they were overly melodramatic. About the closest she could come to 'love songs' she liked in rock involved Aerosmith, who were at times relatively hardcore rockers.

But she was definitely feeling the need for some emotional music that day. Maybe some Evanescence, maybe a little Aerosmith itself. She'd woken up from a morning nap to an Amazon delivery... from Logan.

It wasn't much, just a Metallica t-shirt from their album And Justice For All. But it was a t-shirt she didn't have, and the message that was included had her floating on clouds the rest of the day. *You're better than Hetfield's lyrics on this one. And gnarlier than Ulrich's guitar.*

It was pretty much the best compliment she'd ever gotten.

Even now, as she wiped down the counter at work, his words came back to her and she was left almost giggling with delight. Of course she'd decided to wear the shirt to work, going with it under her MWR polo and a regular pair of jeans for her work outfit. She didn't have to dress up every day, and it felt like a warm hug from Logan to know that something he gave her was right up against her skin.

Today was one of the days that Logan tended to come by the alley after work, and she wanted him to know she appreciated it... even if she still had to wash and 'distress' the fabric some to lend it that right amount of beat to shit authenticity.

"Excuse me."

Sabby looked up, her jaw clenching as the National Guard lieutenant from a few weeks ago approached the counter. The same one who'd harassed her, who'd made her feel like shit, and who'd started a fight with Logan.

Actually, she had to thank him for that last bit. After all, his jackassery had led to the best dating relationship she'd ever had before. Not that he needed to know that, it would probably just encourage him to continue being a dick to the rest of the world.

He was again in civilian clothes, a maroon polo shirt and jeans that left her feeling like she was dressed way too much like he was. The shirt had a logo over the heart, but Sabby didn't recognize it. Then again, she didn't hire a lawn care company. "Yes?"

The man bristled, clearly expecting deference from Sabby, but she wasn't going to give undeserved respect to anyone, let alone someone who'd already been a jerk to her. After a moment he snorted, and continued.

"The MWR office said that I need to come here to book the facility."

"Yup, we handle all facility reservations here at the alley," Sabby replied, setting aside her distaste for the man to do her job. "Since we open ourselves up to the community, we'd rather do things that way since they may not know how to use the MWR system."

"Whatever," the lieutenant said. "Can I book it here with you or do I need to talk to someone else?"

Sabby was about to tell him to go talk to her hand with that attitude, but she was a professional.

"No, I can do it," she said instead, gesturing him over to the computer by the register. "What are you looking to book? The cafe, a couple of lanes, or the whole facility?"

"Why?" the lieutenant asked.

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