In fact, she's quite good, she thought to herself, smiling. Bad, bad Ryanne!

"I bet you'd be happier staying in my quarters," said Winston, and Ryanne shuddered at the idea. "Don't deny it, I know you want to be with me. I turn you on," he added, and Ryanne laughed.

"Turned on is not what I'm feeling, believe me," she said, snickering. "Repelled is more like it."

"You just don't know me," he said, attempting to touch her cheek, but she pulled away. "We could get to know each other back at my place."

Ryanne rolled her eyes. That was the lamest pick-up line she'd ever heard. Even if she was straight, she would've laughed in his face at his poor attempt.

"No thanks," she said, hoping that each time the door opened it would reveal the woman she was waiting for. No luck, thus far.

"Oh, come on," he said, his words slurring into her ear. "I know you want me."

"You don't know much," the blonde snorted.

"Are you turning me down?" he asked.

Finally, he gets the picture! thought Ryanne. "Yes, I'm turning you down. I do not want to sit next to you, nor do I want to go back to your place, nor do I want to get to know you better. How many different ways can I say it?" she asked, exasperated.

"But… I don't believe this," he muttered. "Why?"

"How can I put this…" she began, and then smirked as she met his eyes. "You don't have the right equipment," she said, glancing down to make her point.

His face fell as realization dawned behind his foggy eyes. "You fucking dyke!" he cried. "You're a no good fag! I don't fucking believe this. You would rather be with a goddamned woman than with me?!" Ryanne nodded, and he snarled at her.

"That's really fucked up, you know. And you've got a kid, too. What the hell are you showing her? She shouldn't be with filth like you," he said, and Ryanne narrowed her eyes at him.

"What are you saying?" she demanded, angry at the man who would doubt her mothering skills.

"I'm saying you're a gay slut, and not fit to have a daughter, that's what I'm saying," he spat, and watched as Ryanne recoiled. "Yeah, you know it's true. How does it feel, knowing you're a bad mother?" he asked, enjoying the look of utter pain on the blonde's face.

The blonde got to her feet quickly, nearly knocking over her chair, and Ryanne decided it was time to leave when a few people at nearby tables started staring. The blonde left the bar in a hurry, climbing into her car for shelter from the rain as she returned to the base, leaving an angry, drunken soldier in her wake.

Fuck with me, will you? thought Winston, as he watched the woman leave. That'll teach you to turn me down. Stupid dyke. I'll bet Sergeant Jones will thank me for telling her, and getting the girl away from her mother, he thought, already formulating a plan.

* * * * *

Kris Jones walked in ten minutes later, furious with herself for being late. She glanced around the room, taking in everything at once, not surprised when she didn't find the blonde she was looking for. She hadn't really expected her to wait when she was over a half hour late.

The tall Sergeant had been delayed first by Neil Winston, when he had insisted on discussing the problem with his brother in detail, and then by the Captain, who joined their conversation, and decided to give Jeff Winston one more chance. Kris learned that Jenkins was having trouble with the soldier as well, and decided he was probably not fit to be on base, but one more mistake and that wouldn't be a problem.

She was about to leave, and head back to the base, where she was going to apologize profusely to her lover for standing her up, when a voice drifted to her ears through the noise of the bar: "Yeah, and Jenkins, too! I don't know how far he's stuck his head up the Captain's ass. You can't tell where one man ends and the other begins!" Sounds of laughter followed the remark.

Winston, thought Kris, placing the slurred voice to a the young soldier formerly under her command. Kris sighed. Winston had to be drunk; either that, or he was just extremely stupid. No one walked around disrespecting anyone, Private, Sergeant, or otherwise, and especially not in a bar with so many Army personnel.

"Hey, Winston," she called, and he turned.

"Yeah?" he asked. He didn't think he had to be formal, since he wasn't in uniform, and he wasn't on the base.

"Lay off Jenkins, okay?" she said, and the man shrugged.

"You don't like him anymore than the rest of us, it's said," he said, approaching her to look in her eyes, despite the fact that the Staff Sergeant was a good four inches taller than him.

Kris just returned his stare. "Whether or not I like him is not an issue here, Winston. The thing is, you don't disrespect anyone, especially when they're unable to defend themselves, and you certainly don't do it around me. Is that clear?"

The man nodded. "Sure," he said. "Sorry. Hey, Jones, I got some news for you," he baited, and Kris raised an eyebrow at him, uninterested.

"That so?" she asked him, and he smirked.

"Yep," he said. His voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know that girl you're housing in your quarters?" Jones nodded. "Did you know…. she's a lesbian?"