6 Serina - The Teddy with The Pink Hearts (1/2)
”T'gerr,” Sarge shouted.
Oh! Oh! I thought I'm in for it now.
”Follow me!” He snapped, and the two of us trotted to what turned out to be the complex's kitchen.
A very attractive young man was on duty in the kitchen. I was standing safely back so he wouldn't notice me, too many had already. I was attempting to get some more of that slimy stuff out from under my blouse and reach an itch that I had been so far unsuccessful in reaching. I had been dancing, for the past hour, trying to get at the itches. Every time I thought no one was looking, I'd go for an itch. Suddenly I realized that the Sarge and the young man in the white jacket were laughing at me!
”She's a mess,” the Sarge said pointing to me. ”Serina. Hurry and clean up. Then get back on duty, I'll cover for you,” Then, his eyes twinkling, he turned and marched away.
”Thanks, Sarge,” I said, as I slipped my tunic over my head. It was when I was down to my teddy, all dotted with red hearts that had caused me so much embarrassment this afternoon that I realized he was staring at me. I started to blush, as I imagined what this cute young man must be thinking. Suddenly he blushed himself and gathered up my clothes for me, putting them in the ultraclean unit.
Now I had the opportunity to slip out of the teddy with relative privacy. I'm as casual about skin as the next gal, but undressing in front of an audience was not something that I did every day. I dropped that small wisp of lace into his hands from over his back, as it didn't appear that he was going to look at me. (Was I that ugly?)
”It's down the left-hand hall,” the young man said pointing down a hallway, ”I'll bring your uniform to you in five minutes,” he said, still looking at the Ultraclean.
I stalked off to the 'fresher, in high dudgeon, my feelings hurt. I wasn't going to give 'him' the chance of laughing at me. I turned my head to glance over my shoulder and since he was now looking my way nodded my head in acknowledgment. He stared at me the whole way to the 'fresher. With that sixth sense that tells a woman that she is being looked at, I could feel his eyes on me. There was a sonic that I used to blast the gunk off me. However, I could never resist a real shower—-so programming it for hot and quick, I stepped in, reveling in the heat, loving the feeling as the water trickled down my body, warmly caressing it. I didn't have much time—it seemed that I had just stepped in when the quick dry cycle came on blowing warm air. At home I prefer a towel, loving the tingly feeling, and the way it massages my skin, it always leaves my skin feeling alive, and glowing.
A knock on the door interrupted my reverie. My blushing young man, hopefully, was at the door with my clothes. I opened it partially, not going to take the chance of offending him with the sight of me. There on the top of the bundle, in all of its white and red glory, was my teddy—I was so mad, what right did he have? I started to blush and attempted to grab my clothes, the door accidentally slipped from my foot and swung wide open. He blushed, a vivid red, matching my own color. Taking the bundle from his nerveless hands, I spun about kicking the door shut with my foot.
He sure was the nervous type, and he blushed easily too, which was unusual. The first thing I was going to do after I dressed, was to find some way of getting back at him, and his blushing manner gave me a dilly of an idea.
I walked down the hall, into the kitchen, and right up to him. Grasping his lifeless-hands, I pulled myself into close chest-to-chest contact; all the while I was trying to look him right in the eye, something he was avoiding. However, no sooner had I pursed my lips to kiss him when Sarge appeared in the doorway, as if he had just ported there, and snapped, ”Specialist T'gerr!”
”Sir!” I snapped, as I figuratively jumped out of my skin, and jumped away from my target. I had not been expecting anything to interrupt my nefarious plans for this poor helpless sap.
”Report, on the double.”
”Yes, Sir!” I whirled to face the Sarge and saluted, and we both left at a trot.
The platoon was already drawn up in formation, at parade rest. Sarge and I slipped into our places just in time. For the Duke, escorted by Lady de Winter, strolled up to the formation, not a minute after we arrived.
Sarge barked, ”'ten—Hut!” And we all snapped to rigid attention, in the way that only Imperial Marines can. ”Parade—'hess!” the Sarge snapped after the Duke was in position and facing us. The Duke started in extolling the virtues of our combat skills. I listened with a quarter of an ear, almost asleep, in the manner of all veteran troops when given a chance to relax. Your ears perked for anything concerning you, but otherwise, the words just rolled over you, as if the words were waves on the beach.