Chapter Text
Robin Harisson didn't enjoy gossip. She was a stern and hardened senior drill instructor and had no interest in any worthless scuttlebut that was going around. Be that as it may, sitting in the duty hut of platoon 2056 with her assistant drill instructors Margaret O'Shay and Katherine Forests and watching over their recruits that were scrubbing the floors she had no choice but to hear them.
O'Shay was leaning back on her chair and poring herself yet another cup of dark poorly made office coffee, her curls red hair kept in a Regulations bun through witchcraft and virgin sacrifices and the pale green of her eyes were emphasized through dark bags under her eyes.
"I'm telling you, something fishy is going on here. I heard it from Gunny Sanchez, the one in the Range not his brother in the admin's office, well actually him too because Sanchez heard it from his brother. That the NCIS is poking their head in.
Investigating something." She spoke with an open and friendly demeanor. Nothing like the icy cold and razor sharp snarl she used for the recruits. In that regard, she was an amazing person, to be able to divide herself into 'duty mode' and 'friend mode'.
"Maybe they are here for Knox." Was all Forests says not even looking up from the report she was writing. Forests was the complete opposite of O'shay in that she never had an off mode. The woman was born to torment recruits and she seemed to have chosen to be a drill instructor because she was born with the drill instructor personality. A far cry from O'shay's own jovial smiles and sweet personality that she showed to her closest friends and coworkers.
"I wouldn't mind it. Knox get's into too much trouble." O'shay says sipping her coffee.
"He got transferred to another platoon for punching a recruit. On their first day at the armory." Forests says. Then adds. "Again." For all of her no nonsense qualities, Forests was their friend and just as much of a gossip as O'Shay.
"I heard that it was some Asian looking kid. Before that there was that incident with the two Mexicans and before than it was that albino boy....really Knox just has an amo at this point." O'shay says again. Then turns to Robin expectantly, practically demanding an input.
"Well...if we are talking scuttlebut. I heard Knox's wife was asian. And she cheated on him and then left his ass." Robin says with a small smile. Then right before O'shay or Forests burst into eager questions she shakes her head. "Then again, I've also heard that his wife cheated on him with an asian dude then left him. But I've also heard that he has never been married and only ever fell in love with some stripper. Scuttlebut is scuttlebut." She finished.
Forests thin lips is pulled into a smile and her dark eyes thinned out as she gives a very reserved chuckle. "For someone who hates gossip you also have the best of them."
"It's the E9 mafia she's friends with. I keep telling you, she acts like a hard ass but our Robin is the best when it comes to playing the office politics game." O'shay says laughing into her cup again.
"I am not friends with them....I just am related to three of them and i don't even meet them much around. Laws implemented against fraternization don'tcare for familial ties." Robin smiles then goes to get her own cup off the far desk. "Regardless, that is also how I have first hand news on why the NCIS are here." She said mildly. As if Katherine and Margaret weren't going to hound her for her first hand news.
"See, she has the best gossip and she never tells." Katherine dead pans.
"I just don't want us to be labeled as a sewing circle or some shit. We women in the military are already doing twice the work for half the respect. Last I need is to be known as the office gossip. And yes, i am planning to get promoted. Do you know how hard it is for a woman to get to OCS? Much less be accepted as one? I can not be the only one in my family that settles down for anything less than an E7."
"Yes. Yes. We know. You want to rise through the rank and be a General of the united states before 55. And god forbid your brothers are ever higher rank than you. Barf. Boring. Give me the good stuff." O'shay said.
"Fine." Robin sighed and stepped closer and lowered her voice all together. "This doesn't get out of here. But, my cousin said that the NCIS got involved in Guam, suspecting an officer for homosexuality, sodomy and fraternization, conduct unbecoming and all that jazz. Which we all know the last one is the worst one. But, there is word that they are here suspecting a drill instructor."
"To be also a....one of them?" O'shay says, hunching forward with a frown. "I mean....I'm not saying I get it. But there's got to be more serious shit going on than who puts it where." O'shay was like many women of her time, not necessarily accepting of homosexuality but it was mostly due to a lack of exposure, teachings and in her case confusion. Robin was lucky enough that her friend and coworker of nearly 8 years wasn't so close minded to openly hate and despise them. That would have made working very difficult. As it was, Margaret was mostly just confused as to why a man, any man wouldn't find women attractive. [How can they not like this? She had asked gesturing to her own luscious curves. Which had made everyone laugh at the time.]
"But why are they here now?" As always Forests shows no sign of her personal opinions or prejudices. Going to ask the good questions.
"They seem to think the new Sergeant that hot transfered here, the one in 2032 that took Knox's place, is the same guy the officer fraternized with. He did transfer from Guam." Robin says.
"Wasn't he a recon marine? I think I saw him around a few time, red hair, blue eyes and a silver star?" O'shay aks.
"That's him. Took over after Knox's shit show." Robin grimaces.
"A Recon Marine with a Silver star and he is going to be send to jail and a dishonorable discharge because an officer couldn't NOT cross the line?" Forests says with an unusual heat in her cold low voice. "That's bullshit. Who the fuck cares about sodomy. They gonna waste a perfectly good soldier because he might have done something unconventional but they let someone like fucking Knox waltz around like a peacock?"
"My sentiments exactly." Robin agrees.
"When you put it like that....yup. If there's one person the NCIS should be investigating for conduct unbecoming it's fucking Knox and his racist anger issue riddled ass punching recruits. He gonna kill someone at some point." O'shay puts her cup down a little more forcefully than needed.
"What ever, this is not ours to decide. Let's get back out there those wilted daisies are looking too comfortable." Forests said as she stood up, she out on her hat and even Robin could admit, she looked terrifying.
And also beautiful.
The rest of the evening was as eventful as most bootcamp evening are. Filled with the cacophony of drill instructors yelling, recruits shouting their obedience and the constant shuffle of bodies doing either maintenance work or some other physically exhausting task. Times like this, time meshed together and flew by Robin quicker than usual. She would fall into the routine of drills and tasks and reports. Sometimes she wouldn't even see the face of the recruits or comprehend their names. To her, who was a drill instructor for 8 years, all faces, names and voices meshed together into one unidentifiable humanoid mass that was 'the recruit'.
With night falling and light out called, Robin was for once grateful that it was her night off.
She was glad for that. That she could get in her car and leave the barracks and boldly invite herself to her uncles home. Her uncles, Andrew Harrison, was a Sergeant Major and Robin and her brothers idol and role model booth growing up as kids and ad marines throughout their career. And ever since she was also stationed in Paris Island, she and her 3 older brothers , fucking triplets- all would gather at her uncle 'Andy's' home every sunday or every time all of their leaves lined up.
She got in her old mustang and hummed happily as her sweet boy roared to life then she drove off with a respectful nod to the guards at the gate.
The drive to her uncle's home wasn't long but it was late she did get stuck in traffic. Long enough that she could freely check herself in her mirror.
Though she barely could remember her father, she was always reminded that she was a spitting image of him in his youth. There was a large service picture of the man on the mantle peace of her childhood home, complete with a flag, a few medals the man will never wear again and a smaller picture of him in his dress blues holding a small pink bundle.
Sergeant Kristofer Harrison, KIA. A hero to his country, father to three sons and a daughter. Not even his body was recovered.
But, through those pictures Robin knows that her soft wavy dark copper brown hair and black eyes are a spitting image of her fathers and the only one in the family to inherit his pale skin, dimples and small the small little mole under her left eye. Unlike her, her brothers all took after their mother. With thick back hair and gray eyes and light olive skin and even the arch of their brows.
She was the living ghost of her father. And she was well beloved for that. Her mother, retired staff sergeant Sharon Willis- Harrison would always look at her with sad misty eyes whenever she thinks Robin isn't looking but she can tell. Her brothers and uncle as well, those who remember her father, growing up she was a doted on princess. Still is, in the way she is the only one who can stoll call Sergeant major Andrew Harrison as uncle Andy.
She finally beats the nightly traffic and parks at the two story white orchid estate of one prolific Sergeant Major Harrison as sees that the Harrison family dinner is in full swing. She recognizes the all the cars in the driveway. The triplets have come on their Harley's, her aunt Brunhilda and aunt Melody are here. Her uncles from her mother’s side are here as well, John and William from army.
Cousins Peter, the newly appointed E9 and the oldest grand child of retired Sergeant major Andrew sr. Harrison, Malcom, Joshua and Helga where also here.
It was apparent that half of the Marine corps was related to her, and that half all gathered here for dinner. Sometimes it felt daunting, to come from such a long line of legacies and soldiers and be related to three living, breathing Sergeant Majors. But more often, she saw it as an opportunity. She will make it as a general. She could do it. She just needed to get to officer candidacy school. She will show those misogynistic asshole that a woman is just as good of a marine as the rest of their pompous, old white asses. She would never let her mother down.
She may have been her father's spitting image. But she could feel what her mother endured to become a staff sergeant and even then, she was practically forced into retirement to raise her children.
Yet another stellar soldier taken from the force on accounts of misogynistic, dumb shit. If her mother hadn't had them, her children, she could have been a captain. Like Captain Fajardo. She may have been an enlisted, but she could have gone and passed OcS easily. She knows this about her mother.
But it's ok. Her mother has told her that she loves her children and will make the same choice over amd over again.
It's not ok.
Because she knows that's bullshit. She will never make that dumb decision herself. Pass up on going to officer school? Rise through the ranks and make Captain? Pass that up to change diapers? Fucking bullshit.
She will become a general and she will never be forced into a retirement because of children. No matter how much her mother reassures her that she never regrets a thing. Robin simply doesn't believe her.
She shakes the depressing thoughts off and goes to ring the bell. And it is flung open by a tall broad man with red hair and green eye, bucktooth and a silly grin, no more than 24 and still a bit boyish around the edges.
"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence." Malcom says and pulls her into a tight bear hug.
"Thanks, Mal. You can let go now." She huffs, sniffling her laughter.
"No way girl. Your dear beloved cousin comes back after six month's, and this is what you say to me?" He says with fake hearbreak.
"It's your fault for joining the Navy. Should have been a Marine like god intended." She jabs him and pushes him away. They all joked that Petty officer third class Malcom, who had joined the Navy and was beginning his training to be a SEAL, was the black sheep of the Harrison family. Breaking the generational tradition of joining the marines.
"But cousin, you know me." He yells dramatically flinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her to the dinning room. Then he deepens his voice comically. "I want to make sweet love to the sea."
The real reason why he was the black sheep was that he still had a jovial, boyish charm that most of the Harrison family shed after marine boot camp, or had it much more subdued. But not Malcom. He was the family clown. Not the joke, because for all the jabs everyone were still proud of Malcom for beginning his SEAL training, but he was the family clown and held on to good vibes like a life line.
"Hey everyone. Look who decided to grace us with her presence. It's the family favorite." Malcom hollared happily and pushed her into the dinning room where she was then emedietly surrounded by the loud cheers of her cousins and brothers.
"I'm so sorry I'm late. The traffic was terrible." She apologized as she maneuvered her way around her cousins and to the head of the table where her grand father, and then to where her uncle sat next to him.
She first stood before Andrew sr. And saluted respectfully, but then emedietly without being released she bends down and hugs her grand father. "How have you been pop pop. Are you doing ok? How's the leg?" She asks.
The old war veteran who in his time had served at the tail ends of the second world war and had seen a good chunk of the korean war and retired Sergeant Major, smiles and pets her head with shaking hands. Old age and war wounds were catching up to the proud man and everyone did their best to ignore the tremors in his hands and the limp that kept getting worse or the milky fog glossing one eye. No. Sergeant Major Andrew Harrison Sr. Was still a well toned killing machine and a lion amongst house cants even well into the upper half of his 70's.
"All is well when i see my youngest grandchild. Crown jewel of this family." He says but pointedly refusing to answer any of her questions.
"And you, Uncle Andy? How was the office?" She says and hugs the 'less old' man and gives a kiss on his cheek. "Did you miss me?" She teases. To which she only gets a humm and a side hug but no verbal confirmation.
"Unbelievable. If i had done that, i would be out doing push ups till morning." Jason said.
"To be fair, you smell and nobody wantsany physical contact with you." Aunt Melody, the woman you would never guess was a master sergeant unless you saw her while on duty, who also didn't look a day over 30 while sporting a good 49, happily snips with the cadence of some twenty year old corporal would to her peers.
And that was how their family dynamic worked. They may have been aunts, uncles and cousins but other than pop pop and uncle Andy, everyone practically treated eachother as if they were the same rank and age. As if they were all marines in the same platoon.
Platoon Harrison.
That was the only way they knew how to be friendly with eachother. Their humor, their kinship, while based on family relations was strengthened through their joined life the marines, as enlisted marines.
"Do you still have time for you mother, or are you just going to be annoying your poor uncle?" Came the voice of her mother hilding a big tray of lasagna.
"Sorry Ma'am." Robin laughs and runs over to take the tray from her. "Let me help you." She says.
"No. No. Go. Go get chummy with your uncle. Forget all about your mother. It's not like i was in the kitchen making your favorite food all day." Her mother faked a frown but her lips were smiling still.
"Momma. Come one. You know i love you. And not just because you make the best lasagna in the world." She said kissing her mother on the cheek while also trying to grab the tray of steaming lasagna.
"Unbelievable child. I actually don't believe you. Unbelievable. You want this lasagna more than you want your own mother." She hissed. "That's it. No lasagna for you. You go eat those lasagna MREs."
"No please ma. Please. I've had nothing but shit barracks food. Please. Give me your amazing lasagna. I'll die if i don't have it." She whined which earned a laugh from around the table.
"That's enough now. Everyone sit. Let us pray." Her grand father's voice breaks the moment and everyone automatically march to the table and sit on designated seats based on their rank and hold hand.
"Dear lord, we thank you for the meal....."
...........
The family dinner went on as it always did. With both Andrew senior and junior silently eating and occasionally offering amused looks to the younger generation. Peter, despite his now high rank and arguably respectable age of 40, was still cracking jokes that resulted in a food fight.
Her brothers tore Malcom apart with their anti-Navy sentiments and took the crude joke far enough that each earned themselves a spatula to the head by their mother.
Helga, announced that she and her husband, who was curently absent due to night shift at the hospital, were planing on trying for a baby and once they were successful she would begin transitioning to administration duty.
Robin yet again, did her best to hide her grimace. Yet another promising soldier lost to motherhood. Was there ever any escape? Why would Helga, at the ripe age of 30, a sergeant with a great resume, hang up her hat and sit down to...what? Raise babies? Make a family? She already had one. The Willis family where part of the Harrison legacy the moment her mother married her father, Helga may have been a Willis but by association she was a Harrison. And no Harrison retires at only E5. The only only Harrison who did so was her father, who had died in some redacted corner of the world die to some redacted situation. During the cold- fucking - war. She doesn't remember all that much from her father, and the little that she does, is all redacted lines and mysteries.
The dinner was finished and the triplets, earning a punishment due to instigating a childish food fight, began cleaning the table and washing the dishes.
"Bold choice." Robin had said. "They’re probably going to break all the good dishes." To which Jason threw a peace of left over lasagna at her. She opened her mouth an caught it in mid air. Earning a whistle from uncle william and a laughter from aunt Brunhilda.
They all slowly made the transition from dinning room to the living room. Where they began unwinding and taking a more calm and subdued approach to family time. Pop pop, excused himself to sleep early as his old age made him tire faster and Malcom ran to help him up the stair. (Under the guise of needing to change into more comfortable clothes and not at all because seeing their grandfather now limp and stagger up the stair was painful to watch.)
Brunhilda, sharon - Robin's mother-, Helga and Melody all sat together on the back porch swing and began an indepth baby talk that Robin didn't want any part of. (She was still grossed out by Helga's announcement even good hour later. What the hell did it even mean she was trying for a baby? She was having sex with her husband every day and she felt the need to announce that? Gross.)
All the men, which incidentally involved also Robin sat in the living room and began discussing politics and drinking scotch. They talked about the possibilities of an up coming war, the elections, some new policies that were about to be implemented, in true fashion military men, they even spoke about how the marines are going soft and how back in the day things were done differently.
Robin then had a heated discussion with her cousin Joshua a 25 year old corporal, arguably with shit for brains and uncle John, an army sergeant in his early 40's with four divorces and a mustache that suggested even more to come, about the inherit superiority of the marine corps.
And why wouldn't she? Her family had been part of the marine corps since the day it was founded. Every single Harrison was indoctrinated into the love of the corps, since the moment they were born. In fact, she suspects almost all of them were conceived in dress blues.
The night was going fine. Lovely, in fact. When Andrew junior, who was only junior to an even older Andrew because no one would ever look at the scary looking 50 year old, Vietnam war veteran and go: yes that's junior, called her to have a talk with her in his office.
"Indulge an old man in private, Robin?" He always talked like that to her, as if she was the most gentlest of ladies and he must always be a soft spoken gentlemanto her, to her and no one else. And she had accepted it. That she was always going to be the "what if" of her father. She suspected he doted on her the way he assumed her father would have done. Trying to do right by him by doting on his one and only girl that he only could hold for a four years before fucking off and dying in a ditch somewhere.
"Of course uncle Andy. What do you need from me." She says as she enters his office and closes the door behind her.
He is sitting behind his desk, a heavy dark oak wood. All of the room is the same, dark wood and decorated with war time memorabilia going back to the first Harrison man that joined the marines. The night it was founded.
"Come sit. I have things to speak with you." He says and puts two Krystal glasses on the table and pours them half way with what Robin is sure to be one of the most expensive wines in the house.
"I had a talk with General Bailey today. Not planned but he was in the office and we had the chance to discus some things. Matters of promotions came up. As you know our family is.....well known in the corps. He congratulated me on Peter's own promotion. It is an impressive thing he is on the younger side of the ages where they get promoted to E9." He began as he swirled his wine glass.
"He asked me who else would be getting promoted in the family. Actually, he asked who else i suspected to make E9 in the family." He says with a smile and takes a sip of his wine.
Robin mirrors her uncle and takes a sip of her own glass. She was right, its That wine. The expensive one only opened when important topics come on. On the day Peter got promoted, when Helga got married, when Robin herself returned from boot camp and even before that on her father's funeral. Such and such events.
"I would say aunt Brunhilda would make a good candidate. She has a long career and has distinguished herself as a leader. And eventually, Jackson. Once he get's his head out of his ass. He has the po—"
"I brought up your name." His uncle cuts in
.
"What?" She asks confused.
"You always said you wanted to make general. Go to officer candidacy school and Be a career long woman. I assumed you still had that desire?" He asks raising a brow.
"Yes. Yes i still do. I just wasn't expecting it." She admits leaning back against the fine leather.
"Well. I brought up your ambitions. Don't worry, I've been playing this game long enough to know how to do it tactfully." He chuckles at Robin's mortified expression. "And before you complain. No, this isn't nepotism. Nepotism means you actually don't deserve it and i know you do. You may still be only a staff sergeant but i can see you have the makings of a great leader. In fact i am surprised you haven't brought up OCS yourself yet. As you are now, you are more competent than half the officers i know." He says. "But i am here actually, to bear some
...unfortunate new." He finally admits.
Robin frown. She leans forward and looks at her uncle's face intently. With that one sentence the man looked decades more older and exhausted.
"Give it to me straight. No. Wait. Let me guess. Women can't be generals?" She already in annoyance. Of course it would be that. Because it's better to be a man than to be actually competent in your rank and job. Fucking pompous misogynistic assho—
"Not exactly. It isn't impossible. It is very difficult yes but not impossible, and the fields are more limited, infantry, for example are off the table. But no. Bailey is a good man. But while being supportive he is also a realist. And realistically it is very difficult for a woman to become a general. It is even more difficult if said woman is....how do i say this kindly...." he grimaced. Her uncle, the great and influential sergeant major Andrew Harrison, the fucking Vietnam war veteran, grimaced as if his words, his thoughts left an acrid aftertaste in his mouth.
"Uncle, I am a marine. I can take bad new. Just tell me what is it." She huffs.
"It is very difficult for unmarried women to establish themselves in hier ranks. It is less about competence, in these high ranks, than it is about playing politics. OCS is extremely competitive and everyone will try to nitpick flaws. You have to be the image of the marine leadership but also...as a woman... you must also appear as upholding american tradition and image. A bitter angry, hardass unmarried woman doesn't garner much support when aiming for promotions. But a woman who is married and upholds traditional american values? That is more plausible." He says carefully as if he's worried his words to result in a violent reaction from Robin.
And Robin? She was seething. She was boiling. Her blood was turning into steam and her bones were breaking into sharp shards. Of course. Of course that curse of marriage and family followed her even into her career. That beast of burden that is 'family life' kept her slow. She was a race horse. She would not be held back by the slow, heavy cart that was family and marriage and the burdensome load of children. She was a fast pacing, dreadnought, she would not be anchored down by misogynistic, worthless notions.
And yet.
And yet, her entire career was hinging on the fact that she would only have support for promotion if she could brand herself as an all american wife, with american ideals of family. As if military was the one field in which family was valued in. Ha! What ridiculous bullshit. The military was breeding grounds for broken families, divorces, spousal abuse and absent parents. She herself had come from a family who's father, during the years he was still alive, was always absent and on deployment. What ridiculous thing to imply an American military leader should hold onto american ideals when the system itself tears families apart.
But she knows the game. That's a bullshit rule they made just to make things harder for women. Only supporting married women under the guise of 'American ideals' and 'popular American image' when they know for a fact that those very same women would almost always be forced into early retirement due to the plague that is children.
Her mother namely. Helga soon to follow. And so many more women she met in her ten years of service. Broken down, shackled, thrown off the cliff and forced to concede their dreams and aspirations. Under the iron fist of family and the burdensome harness of Child care, perfectly tuned killing machine, soldier of substance and unrivaled competence had turned into housewives and sentient wombs for their mediocre husbands.
What a fucking joke.
"Are they fucking stupid? What the fuck does a husband have to do with my competency as an officer? How is a family going to help me with leadership? If i marry I'll just have to retire and start popping babies. That won't help anyone with leadership. I need to become a general. Not retire as some run of the mill E6 or E7." She roared her anger. Robin slammed her fist on the table and grabbed her glass of wine and threw back the rest of her wine in one big swing. This time she couldn't enjoy the rich taste.
"I know Robin. I undesirable your position against the issue. And I support you. But i am one person among many others who would have to sign up on your promotions. Not to mention that you as well as everyone else in this family are enlisted. Had you listened to me back then and chose differently, it could have been done easier saying you're too young for marriage, but you're 29 already. Now nothing can change how things are....unless..." he opened his hands in a welcoming gesture and raised a brow. "I can speak with a few old timers. The Harrison name holds influence in the command, even though we all have the tradition if enlisting. Always did and always will. There are few officers who wouldn't listen to what a Harrison has to say."
"I'm not going to take hand outs uncle. I won't resort to nepotism. I am confident in my competence enough to know for sure i don't need you to pass notes for me, to make officers like me." She snaps and as if all her energy left her body with that sudden surge of anger, she flops back on the couch.
"This is fucking bullshit. Do you know how many great women where lost to marriage and child care? How many great soldiers the corps has lost over the years?" She asks tiredly.
"Of course I know. I have been doing this longer than you have been alive, Robin." Her uncle sighs and leans back.
"Unfortunately, this game can only be won by playing the rules. Not breaking them. Neither you, nor I alone are enough to change how the military works. In all of it's broken cogs."
"Easy for you to say. You never married and no one fucking cared." She huffs. "In fact you boosted your image for being a dedicated man of the uniform. Having Peter wasn't even that big of deal, no one cared that you were a single father. They applauded you for being one. Now if the roles where reversed...." she mocked, throwing her hands up.
"I know Robin. As much as you might hate me as the bearer of bad news, I completely understand your outrage." He said as he poured her more wine sympathetically.
"What am I supposed to do? Doesn't matter what accomplishments I have or how many commendations I get. As long as I'm not 'somebody's wife' I'll never make it to lieutenant much less general." She grumbled as she began slowly regain her composure. That was what made her a good marine, a good soldier. Her ability to keep calm even at the worst of times. And this, was the worst of her times.
"What can I do? Find a last minute husband? Walk up to some guy at a bar and be like...hey, I need to be married to be considered for OCS and promotions on the long run, want an absent wife that'll only ever work and never does anything wifley? Like that would go over well. What man would even marry a woman that only wants to work and never have sex and never have kids." She rambled on much to the amusement of her uncle.
"It won't be that out of the ordinary, there are plenty of men who wouldn't mind a military wife's benefits." He mused.
"Ewe, uncle. I am not entertaining the idea of barracks bunnies. They'll just divorce me and take half my shit. If being single is a bad image, then being a divorcee is even worse." She huffed a tired laugh.
"Not what i meant." Her uncle also scrunched his nose in distaste. "Perhaps it's best you speak to brunney about this." He finally admits. Leans back and downs the rest of his wine. "Drink up and maybe seek your aunt for some advice. After all, realistically speaking she is in line for that sweet sweet promotion. And she is married."
"I can't see how someone who is happily married to a surgeon can be of any help to me who is practically being forced into it." Robin raises a brow but goes to take her refilled glass and down it in one go.
"Talk to her. There are matters I can't speak about." He says again in that cryptic old man voice, he sometimes gets.
"Fine. Fine. Keep your secrets mysterious old man." She laughs finally and get's up to leave. "Thanks for the talk uncle. I actually appreciate that...you had me in mind." She say.
"I'll alway have you in mind Robin. You are the daughter I never had. You are my little brother's littlest child. I'll always be on your side." He says solemnly even though his thin lips are pulled into a smile. His eyes are still sad. And Robin thought for a second, if her father was alive perhaps it would have been him who got promoted to E9 instead of Peter or Brunhilda.
"Good night uncle." She says with a polite bow of her head.
"Good night Robin." He says.
Robin leaves the room and closes the door behind her. For a few brief moments she stands in the dark hallway to steady herself and steel her mind. She was a marine and she would not back down from uncomfortable situations. Including an uncomfortable talk about marriage with her aunt.
She walked down the hall way towards the stairs when she saw Peter standing on the balcony already smoking.
"You haven't been E9, more than a few days, is the pressure getting to you already?" She joked softly.
"Fuck off, you two bit bird." He laughs and puffs his smoke in her face. "Just thinking is all."
"Gasp! You know how to do that????" She mocks by putting her hand on her chest and feigning a shocked expression.
"Oh fuck you." He laughs and pinch her arm. "This whole NCIS thing. Had a talk with the lady here. She was asking about this sergeant guy she thinks is gay. Wanted me to see if I had any....insight." he admits.
She frowns and looks away from him. She looked into the darkness outside of the house, the lines of trees and the dark blue of the road ahead.
"That's shity. The guy...I heard he was Recon. With a silver star and... they just want to arrest him." She says.
"Imagine doing all that, for the country, for the corps just for them to toss you away for wetting your dick the wrong way." Peter said with a frown. "All your training, competence, experience. All that is not worth it if you don't want to bang chicks."
"As a...chick, I agree." She huffs with a small snort. "And for your information I can imagine that." She says. Peter turns to look at her quizically and she takes the cigarette from him to take a drag herself. "Had a Talk with Andy..."
"Only you would call him Andy." Peter laughs.
"Shut up. He's not as scary as you make him" she says with a smile.
"Um? Excuse me? Who's father is he?" He snaps but with no real bite.
"I talked to uncle Andrew." She says pointedly. "And he said the upper brass basically told him unless I show myself as the image of the 'American ideals' and 'a family oriented woman' I won't be considered for promotions. Not the big ones that matter. No OCS, I mean." She admits.
"What does that even mean?" He asks with a loud snort and takes back his cigarette.
"It means I won't make it to general won't even make lieutenant, unless I fucking marry someone." She hissed.
"That's...bullshit." he spits.
"That's true." She resigned.
"That's a dirty old man game to keep women out of power." A new voice said. Not necessarily loud, but clear and strong and unyealding. A voice of a commander. The voice of her aunt Brunhilda.
"Auntie Brunny." She acknowledged respectfully and fondly.
Brunhilda was 46 and showing her age through thin gray streaks in her auburn hair and crows feet around her dark gleaming eyes. She was always the kind of woman, who seemed a little older than she actually was and usually surprised others through her younger mindset. But ultimately, she wore her age so beautifully. She was one of those women in the military who had no femininity, little to no curves and all tones muscle. It made her uniform sit magnificent on her broad chest and strong shoulders.
"My dear." She nodded but didn't smile. "I had a talk in the hallways with Andrew and come to find you about it." She says as she also leans against the balcony and pulls out a packet of cigarettes and picks two out.
"Here, don't take that asshole's second hand smokes." She says with a glint in her eyes.
"Hey no fair." Peter shouts.
"Here. Let me light you." She ignores Peter and light's Robin's cigarette.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks after exhaling a ling thin line of smoke between small red lips.
"Yeah. I was on my way to found you but then saw this guy mopping here." She says gesturing to Peter.
"Hmm. Why are you mopping here? Already crushed under the weight of duty?" She jeered good with a smile that showed off both of her dimples.
"Jesus fucking christ. I came here to smoke and relax not be attacked by two hussies." He grumbles and drops his cigarette and steps his heel on it. "I'm leaving, you two are ruthless tonight."
For a few moments Robin and Brunhilda watch in silence as Peter's hulking figure disappears down the hallway and turns down the stair. Then brunhilda turns to her niece and begins.
"I see the issue is marriage." She says taking a long drag. "But I know you hate the idea. Trust me, your face is not as neutral as you think it is. Everytime Helga spoke of children, you looked like you wanted to hurl." She mused.
"I can't believe that i can't become an officer unless i marry." She hissed. "It's ridiculous."
"There's nothing in the rules say that you can't. Rather it's much worse. They make excuses, pass you on for lesser candidates and make you feel like something is wrong or missing with you. They say shit like 'you're not what we are looking for' or 'we don't have any positions for your skills'. All the while, you're only being passed up just for being a woman. They feel threated. A married woman sounds less dangerous to them. Less scary. As if your leash is in hand and you have de-clawed." She says with a surprising heat behind her words.
It takes all of two seconds for it to klick in Robin's mind. "You were passed for OCS?" She asks.
"Yes. I was about your age, i think. Single, driven, all business and i thought, naively, that if i just prove myself i would be given what i deserve. I did pass the 10 weeks of OCS, just never actually picked for it. On accounts of being a woman. It was worse back then as well, i had to get married to even be considered for E7."
"Is that..why?" She tilted her head and asked.
"Why I married Matthew? Yes. Matthew is a wonderful man, a great doctor. A man of integrity and a dear friend. But he an I only married as friends and to achieve a common goal. To comfortably focus on our career without unnecessary issues about personal life." Brunhilda takes a drag from her cigarette and closes her eyes. She speaks fondly of her husband and his job as an ER surgeon.
"I don't believe you! I thought you and Matthew were in love an all that." She gasped in shock. This was genuine news to her. In the past what?, eighteen years? That she's known Matthew, he and Brunhilda were always the perfect image of a well adjusted all american couple. Sensible and presentable but still, very madly in love.
"We are in love. Mostly in love with our careers and what love we have for each other is as friends." Brunhilda offers her explanation.
"So? You? I mean...if you don't love him as a man? Then?" Robin really didn't know how to ask this question. It seemed so invasive and private but still, she needed to know. She wanted to know. Because she couldn't wrap her jar-head around the concept.
"Are you asking if we have ever consummated our marriage as husband and wife?" Brunhilda laughed and Robin felt her cheeks heat up all the way to her ears and down to her neck.
"Sorry, auntie. That's personal." She sputters which only results in Brunhilda laughing louder.
"No child. It's a valid question. Anyone else I would have punched in the face but it's you and it's not unrelated to your situation so I would say it plainly." She straightened her shoulders. "No child. It's a valid question. Anyone else I would have punched in the face but it's you and it's not unrelated to your situation so I would say it plainly." She straightened her shoulders. "No. He and I have no such interests. Well, he had no interest in me, as a woman i mean and i, also have no desire to for him as a man." She smiled.
"Is there such a man? To be married to woman and not want anything from her?" Robin asked skeptically. It sounded to good to be true. For a husband to only be a friend and not ask for sex and not be cause of children.
Brunhilda tosses her cigarette on the ground and stomps on it to put it out, then as she picks out another one to light she says.
"My dear niece, there are also men who have no interest in women at all. And for those of us who are being shackled by rules of old men who think an unmarried woman is a lion out of its cage, such a marriage, a marriage to a man who has no desire for any woman at all, is the best option. There are some women who also have no interest in men, and want to marry other like minded men."
"That's an option?" Robin asks with a raised brow. "I get to marry a homosexual and....all my problems are gone?" She asks.
"No problems are ever gone my dear. The problem you are facing about promotion may be solved but there might be other problems. If...and i am saying if, one were to marry a gay man, one should make sure he is a man good character and conduct. To are basically choosing a life long companion. It's best if you can be friends at least." Brunhilda winks. "Think on it. And needless to say, this is a Harrison family matter and doesn't go out of this household."
"Of course auntie Brunny. Thank you for sharing such important things with me. You have given me a lot to think about." Robin says and gives her aunt a hug. She was already planning, scheming, strategizing. The gears in her head were shifting and a list was being maid. But all the same she had a good potential candidate in mind.
But she had to speak with Peter first.
"If you excuse me auntie. I have to ask Peter about something." She says hurriedly and leaves.
"Go on, I do hope i hear the good new soon." Brunhilda jokes with a wink. And Robin finds herself grinning as well.
"Soon as i find the groom." She retorts as she walks backwards out of the balcony.
She practically runs downstairs looking in almost every room to find Peter. Finally, Jackson tells her that he retired to one of the guest bedrooms on the third floor. And she ran up the stairs like she was doing a drill. And when she finally found the room Peter and gone to- he had moved to a military housing on base much like most of the Harrison family did and so he no longer had his own bedroom here but he as well as everyone had their own designated guest rooms- she began knocking the door loudly and repeatedly not relenting until peter, now in old PT shorts and a worn out shirt opened the door.
"Jesus christ woman, what is wrong with you." He huffed.
"What? Did i interrupt your jerk-off session?" She teased while still catching her breath.
"Did just wake me up because you thought of more creative insults?" He sighed
"No. Sorry. No. Look, quick question. What is the NCIS lady's verdict? Do you know?" She asked urgently.
"Who? Wha– why? I don't know." Peter seemd confused and Robin didn't begrudge him. She had woken him up suddenly and was asking a strange and unusual question.
"Look. The NCIS lady that is investigating the recon sergeant guy...what is even his name? What is her verdict? She thinks he's gay or not?" She asked again this time more clearly. Also realizing that so far, she has only been referring to the man as 'the recon sergeant'.
"He's name is...." Peter had to think for a few moments. "Sullivan. Sergeant Liam Sullivan. I remember reading his file. He was stationed in....Guam. stellar resume. He's wasted being a drill instructor. But...about the lady....i doubt it. What i heard is Captain Fajardo is on his side wants to help but that lady also has a reputation for not backing down. She will find something to blame." He says, slowly just waking up to full alertness.
"Robin? What's all this about? Everything ok?" He asks.
"Everything is alright." Robin says with a small smile forming on her lips. Already she was planning to call O'shay and asking about some scheduling.
"No really. What's going on, you don't usually care this much about gossips." Peter asks giving her shoulder a brotherly squeeze. "You would tell me if things were happening, right? Like...if this lady was giving you trouble?"
"Yes. Peter. I promise everything is well." She winked at him and patted his hand that was still on her shoulder. "In fact i think we might be in for a wedding soon." She says and she slips off leaving a bewildered Peter behind asking her what the hell she meant by that. She didn't stop, she didn't turn around. She was already planning her marriage.
She was already seeing herself in OCS. In an officers uniform. She was already imagining the dumb faces of those dumb old men as she made lieutenant, then Captain amd finally when she made general.