Basic Training (closed)

“Come ON,” Darcy snapped. She brought a delicate hand down hard on the steering wheel of her Prius. The light she was stuck at had been red for what seemed like hours. It had been a ruthless day for her, registering for C.N.A. certification and tracking down the appropriate records to do so.

The effort it had taken her to get to this point was something that would never fail to amaze her. It had been a haul: the three years overseas in Iraq and then Afghanistan with only minimal visitation, the medical training and exposure to completely foreign societies. The list could drag on forever. Darcy was proud of her service, proud of her achievements. Now she was finally establishing herself, getting the certification with the advanced one soon to follow. All of this was great but even better was being back with her friends and family. She had known she would lose time and memories by being deployed but she hadn’t been prepared for the extent of those lost days. Slowly, she was rebuilding her relationships and connections. It was all coming together.

All of it, except for one thing.

When Darcy had returned, she had come home to her husband Jason. They had gotten married shortly before her first tour began. The relationship they had shared before her departure had been brief, a whirlwind of intensity and romance so quick it had left her breathless. It had been wonderful, but so short: three years apart after a few months of being together wasn’t the best way to forge a foundation. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had kissed him at the airport, clinging for one last embrace before she turned to fly across an ocean.

The distance had changed them. Darcy didn’t like it, but there it was. Or, at least, it had changed her. She didn’t think it was that terrible. She just had some different goals. She was more focused, independent, maybe even somewhat selfish. Darcy knew that things had shifted in some vital way, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. She knew plenty of women that lived their lives this way: go-getters, oozing feminine strength and superiority. There was so much she had planned for herself, so much she wanted to do…

When she and Jason had started dating she had been so much sweeter, so much more innocent. She had been eager to please and be a good wife to him. Darcy still wanted those things, but it wouldn’t be so bad if they had to take a backseat for a little while. She was hoping Jason would understand in time. There was just so much to do, if he could just give her space! This had never been a consideration: the shifting of their roles, with her being the primary partner. But it was here now, and staring them in the face.

Darcy sighed and ran a hand through her blonde hair. It was still pretty short, brushing beneath her small ears and framing her dainty features. It was another sore point. Her hair before had been long and luxurious, her crowning glory. As the light ticked green, she remembered Jason’s face when he had first realized it was cropped so short. The disapproval had been so thick Darcy felt like choking on it. Just another clue that things were off. Maybe they had rushed into it too fast…

No. Darcy shook her head as she drove towards the two-bedroom townhouse they shared. She loved Jason. Jason loved her. Nobody came back from a military absence and entered into a perfect relationship. It was just impossible.

Still, there was a part of her that was hoping Jason’s car wouldn’t be in the garage when she pulled into the driveway.

Jason struggled with the latest design concept. He sat in his office for the better part of an afternoon grueling over a single sheet of paper. He had erased so many times the paper itself was getting thin. He sat for an entire hour looking at a poorly drawn circle before he threw out the entire thing and decided a break was in order.

He went into the kitchen and made himself some coffee. He didn't really want coffee this late in the afternoon, but his fingers were twitchy and he didn't know what else to do.

His mind couldn't focus on anything at the moment. Whenever he tried to think he kept going back to Stacy and their marriage. It felt like some giant void within his mind, and he could never venture too far from it. Every time he tried to think of work he just got pulled back into it.

He didn't know what to do. Three years ago he had married the perfect girl, smart, funny and caring. She turned out to be every single fantasy he ever wanted in a wife.

Today?

He heard a car engine outside. He went over to the window and saw her car pull up into the driveway. He had been dreading this all afternoon. Perhaps that's why he couldn't get any work done, constantly listening for her car to arrive.

"You home early?" He asked, the moment she got in. He came up to hug her. It was far from the bearing emotional hug they had shared in the airport a few weeks ago. He felt completely out of his skin now.

He made a small sign at her still short hair, pretending to stir his coffee to keep from staring at it.

"So, I thought we would go out tonight. There's an Italian place on Lincoln, supposed to be delicious ravioli."

It might be a nice date, a good way to bring things back together. He could finally get her alone and get to the bottom of this new change in her. It sounded like the only way to deal with it at the moment, just hit it head on.

As she pulled into the driveway Darcy registered the fact that Jason’s car was in the garage. She exhaled slowly through her nose, pulling her purse and papers into her lap before sitting still a moment. It was like this all the time and she didn’t know why, didn’t know how to change it. Maybe he was inside, doing the exact same thing. This strange shift of roles kept taking its toll. That thought made Darcy snap her keys out of the ignition and exit the car.

“Hey,” Darcy said as she placed her purse and keys on the hall table. She briefly put her arms around his neck, rubbing his back briskly as she pulled away. “Well, I thought it would take longer but it turns out TB testing doesn’t take as long as I thought. And the criminal check was already done, so.”

She tried to ignore the stiffness in their contact and made her way to the kitchen, leaning her arms on the counter. She noticed the newly made coffee and opened her mouth to tease him but thought better of it when he avoided the sight of her hair.

When he suggested dinner she groaned inwardly. The day had been so long, so full of new facts and information that all she really wanted to do was pour a huge glass of wine and eat a salad. Vegging out in front of the television didn’t sound too bad either. But Darcy knew that with all of the changes she was imposing on Jason, the least she could do was go out with him for some pasta.

“That sounds fine. I need to shower, change, whatever. I feel like my neck is attached to a steel rod, it’s so tight,” she stretched and started towards the bathroom. When she reached the door to the hallway she paused, wincing inwardly. She hadn’t even asked about his day, about his work. Well, it was too late now. She felt like she’d already made the concession to dinner and she could always ask about it then.

“I’ll just be a bit,” Darcy said quietly. She drummed her fingers on the doorframe and walked to the bathroom. The door closed with a quiet click, and she didn’t look back at her husband once.

"Ok," Jason said as an afterthought to the now empty room. He took a moment to close his eyes in front of the sink, desperate for some thought to come and break his frustration. Where could he go though? What could he do? Was it a simple matter of breaking through to her? Did they need counseling? Thoughts kept running around in his head, like rabig dogs endlessly chasing their own tails, getting nowhere and spending an absurd amount of energy.

Jason tried his best to try and forget it, instead going to change for dinner.

He walked passed the bathroom, pausing slightly. He heard the water running. There might have been a time when he would have jumped in there with her, and lost himself in the haze of steam and sex. For some reason he imagined if he jumped in now she would scream, or perhaps just get that look on her face whenever she thinks something but prefers not to say it.

Instead, he moved onto the bedroom. He picked out some nice jeans, a buttoned shirt and a dinner jacket. It became a dashing ensemble as he posed for himself in the mirror. He could live with that. They were going out to dinner after all. If it was going to be a date, he might as well act like it.

He just started lacing up his shoes when he heard the shower turn off.

"You know what I miss?" He said, loud enough for her to hear in the other room, "That little black dress of yours. The strapless one? You wore that on our third date. You remember that? I couldn't take my eyes off of you all night... hands either come to think of it."

He said this last part more to himself. When had he seen that dress last? Over three years ago, back when she was the woman he married. Jason thought better of trying to think about it anymore, and put all of his mental effort into tying his own shoes. It became a daunting task.

Darcy stood under the showerhead, the steaming spray of water beating onto her back. It was such a relief just to relax, let all of the responsibility of her day fall into the drain like the soap suds running off her skin. Or at least it would've been, without the tension this dinner date was surely going to breed. She rinsed the last bit of shampoo from her hair and switched the water off. The drain made a gurgling noise as she stepped from the shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel.

“You know what I miss?” Jayson called from the bedroom. “That little black dress of yours. The strapless one? You wore that on our third date.”

Darcy exhaled sharply. Of course she remembered it. How could she forget it? The sleek design and soft sexiness that came with it, how it seemed to embrace her body at all the right curves. Just thinking about it and how Jason had responded to her in it made anger fizzle down her spine. Everything had been right then. They had just started enjoying each other, felt like they really knew each other. Now it just seemed like a worthless scrap of cloth that represented a past marriage that didn't exist anymore.

“I couldn't take my eyes off of you all night... hands either come to think of it,” This last line that was barely audible to her ears in the steam filled bathroom made Darcy's hands clench on the comb she was pulling through her hair. When had she even last worn that damn dress for Jason? When was the last time she had even felt like looking sexy for him? Responding? She couldn't remember. It made her feel resentful, frustrated that she couldn't fix something that couldn't be named.

“Yeah, it was a cute one. I...I haven't seen it for years. Probably since before I left, I guess,” she said, faltering a little around the lie. She knew that the dress was hanging in the back of the guest room closet. It was sequestered away, almost like some women keep their wedding dresses or prom gowns. The dress was a symbol of something lost.

Darcy finished her bathroom routine and wiped condensation off of the bathroom mirror. She studied her face, its clear skin and expressive eyes. It was still a pretty face, unlined and fresh. What did she expect, a sudden outbreak of wrinkles and age spots? Twenty eight was far from the end of the line.

She stood in the bedroom doorway clutching her towel to her chest, watching Jason tie his shoes. Darcy felt like a sudden voyeur; the domesticity of this little scene was completely foreign. When he looked up at her she suddenly felt a tightness in her stomach that hadn't been there in ages. A stirring of desire. Then it was gone and she was walking towards the closet. She ran her fingers over the garments hanging neatly in rows.

“You know,” Darcy fumbled through the words, “I think that maybe I know where that dress is. I might...I mean I think I'll see if I can't find it. For old time's sake.”

It was almost like her voice tumbled out on its own. She didn't know where the thought came from. For a few seconds she felt great, like she was really working to make this night fun for Jason. Then came the old irritation, the resentment at having to follow by her husband's wishes.

She stepped from the bathroom with only a towel around her. Jason paused, an arousal brewing as he took her in. Steam followed her when she opened the door, her hair wet and clinging to her skin, eyes wide and searching the room. He couldn't help but wander to the old memories of making love to his wife, fucking her and her looking just like this.

The moment left as soon as she spoke. She had a vague disinterest in her voice that reminded Jason of sand grinding in between his teeth. He sometimes just wanted to scream at her to tell him what she was thinking, instead of having this empty conversations.

“I think that maybe I know where that dress is. I might...I mean I think I'll see if I can't find it. For old time's sake.”

"Would you?" They could bring back some spark of years passed. Jason liked that. He found himself for the first time actually looking forward to this dinner. If they both just easily slipped back into those roles of husband and wife?

Jason hopped into the bathroom to get himself ready. If she was going to look good for him, the least he could do was return the favor. He shaved himself, a quick brush of the teeth. He put on the cologne that she liked.

He emerged into the kitchen to grab his car keys.

"Sweetheart, you ready?" He leaned into the doorway, searching for any sign of her. He couldn't hide the excitement, hoping to get a glimpse of her in that dress. He already felt a small twinge of desire run clean through him, stirring at the base of his cock.

It had been years since he felt that for his wife.

Darcy heard Jason walk into the bathroom and relaxed her shoulders as the door closed. Why was this so difficult? Why did she feel this urge to take the dress and fling it into his face? He obviously wanted to heal this rift in their marriage. She just wanted him to let her do what she wanted! I didn't sign up for a boss when I met Jason. I signed up for a partner, a helpmeet.

These thoughts kept roiling through her head as she stalked to the guest room, her resentment itching at her temples. I don't know why he's all excited. It's not like I'm going to sleep with him after, I'm too damn tired. She pulled the dress on and tied the tie at her neck. She walked back into the main bedroom, picking out a pair of black heels before she stopped. Why the hell am I doing this?

Darcy sat down on the edge of their bed, her hands clenching the bedspread. This house, their sex, her career, his career. Why can't he just accept what I want to do? Why all the hidden disapproval, the awkwardness? She refused to look at her own behavior, thinking that it was perfectly reasonable she start her own life falling alongside his. By now her anger was spilling over. She started to do her makeup, mascara and eyeliner and lipstick. Darcy even sprayed perfume along her neck. But when she heard him call out to her, she couldn't help but grip the shoe she was pulling on tighter.
“Be there in a sec,” she called, trying desperately to keep the irritation out of her voice.

She really didn't want to ruin this for him. It was clear that he wanted this, that he needed this. But damn it, things just weren't even! After all her hard work, after everything? Darcy couldn't take it anymore. They hadn't talked about it yet but she was going to do it now, on her terms. Not in some fancy Italian restaurant where people could see them hissing at each other about marital problems.

Darcy came down the hall, her heels snapping against the floor. She let her purse fall from her hand and ran her fingers through her hair. Try to be civilized. Try to keep your cool.

“I can't do this. Alright? I can't. What is it? What have I done that's so terrible that you can barely look at me? Barely touch me?” Darcy looked Jason straight in the face as she talked, her right hand coming to rest above her heart. “You've been acting like I caught some kind of damn disease since I realized what I wanted to do with my life! You're ashamed of me! Well, Jay, I'm not going to keep doing things like this. I know what I want. I'm trying my best to get it. I didn't sacrifice three years, THREE YEARS, of my life to just throw it all away now.”

She walked to the living room window, her arms gesturing at the street outside. “This level of normality, this... calm, do you know how different it is from over there? And then I come home to you, a completely different person than the man I married. The man I loved, Jason. I'm some foreign concept to you now. How is ravioli going to fix that?”

Darcy wasn't yelling but she wasn't exactly talking quietly either. She had been waiting for days to get this out and now that it was, she didn't know if she could stop. She walked into the kitchen, leaning on the counter.

“I'm the same woman! I'm the same Darcy that you thought was sweet and sexy. A damn dress shouldn't change that,” she snapped.

It all came out in a gush, random and bobbling from one topic to another. Jason tried to make sense of it all, but it seemed incomprehensible. The important points hit home though, and while he felt shocked when she said them, it didn't surprise him in the least. If anything, this conversation was a long time coming.

"I've changed?" Jason didn't understand that one part. He felt a rise in his voice even though he shouldn't. He wanted to talk about this as calmly as possible, but the heat coming off of his neck told him that would never happen.

"No... Darcy, I haven't changed. You changed. I am the same person who married you three years ago, who loved you. But... the person who comes back isn't the one I fell in love with. How am I supposed to deal with that? I just have to pretend everything is all right? Just go along and let you do whatever you want."

How could she expect him to just sit there and let her dictate where she is going.
He followed her into the kitchen, not even letting her go and sulk by herself. If she wanted to have it out with him, then that's what they were going to do. He stood behind her, almost visible shaking as he spoke.

"You never talk to me. Is it such a chore just to open up and let me know what's going on? Is it too much to ask for the same loving and enjoyable woman I met 3 years ago?"

He shook his head, "And the dinner? The best you think of me is that I am repulsed by you? I was trying to connect with you again, to get back to some level of communication with us. Dating, fucking, even just spending time together. But, you don't want that. I don't even know what the fuck you do want."

Jason felt like he should leave. He had the car keys in his hand. For some reason the air in the kitchen was just too hot to breathe. He tried going into the hallway, but it only felt worse in there. He realized it was just his own temper, his lungs unable to calm down the rest of him.

"How can I get back to the way I was with you if you never even let me in... Darcy?"

When Jason came into the kitchen her whole body tensed. They had never fought like this before. She had never spoken out like that. It felt good but it also made her ashamed. Like she was using him like a punching bag, with all of the things she wanted to talk about coming out in jabs and digs. Darcy wasn't even sure she knew what she was trying to say anymore; the anger had completely spread through her consciousness.

“Is it too much to ask for the same loving and enjoyable woman I met 3 years ago?” Darcy could hear the hurt and rage in Jason's voice. It made her blood boil! How could he be so angry with her? The things she had been trying to accomplish were for his benefit too, even if they made her a little preoccupied. So what? She hadn't changed that much. She was just busy. She couldn't be his little housewife, his plaything.

She whirled around. Her hazel eyes were snapping with fury. “That's completely unfair. You know the stress I'm under to get all of this stuff done. How am I supposed to adjust to living in the States again if you won't support me?”

A small part of her mind realized that Jason had been trying to solve all of this by asking her to dinner. He had been trying to open a door and she had fucked it up. Had it been her all along? Had she been the one causing all of this? That doubt made angry tears prick at her eyes. It's not fair. I've been good to him. I've been good to us.

Everything that tumbled out of his mouth seemed designed to wound her. Or maybe it was her perception. Darcy felt like she was acting insane, like a stereotypical angry wife. Not making sense, not getting through. It was enough to make her want to scream. How could she change this? How could she make herself heard?

“I don't even know what the fuck you do want.”

“I want...I want my career. I want something to take pride in, to really dig myself into.” Darcy paused, knowing the part he would like least was coming. She took a breath, trying to calm herself. It wouldn't be fair to deliver a blow like this in anger, even though she was angry. But she felt in control, she felt like she was in CHARGE. Jason couldn't tell her what to do anymore. “I want you to let me do my own thing. I mean, I really would like it if you could just say 'good for you, babe' and then let me be. Why should I have to always keep your wishes in mind?”

She raised a hand as though she wanted to touch his chest, but it fell back to her side. The frustration ebbed a small amount, leaving her feeling drained. Darcy turned back to the counter and heard his breathing at her back.

“How can I get back to the way I was with you if you never even let me in...Darcy?”

There was only one thing she could say to that.

“Maybe we should go forward, instead of going back. Maybe we should change.”

Each answer she gave cut him deeper. Jason understood all to well what she said to him, finally able to speak what he had been dreading to hear for months now. She had grown, changed and moved on. She didn't want to remember the past, but move towards the future.

She thought he was supposed to be all right with her decision. It was ok for her to change and him to just stand beside her and hope all is well. There was no remorse, no guilt for this decision, only a cold longing glance at him as he re-lived happy thoughts of yesteryear in his mind.

She would not now, or ever be the wife he knew.

Jason came up behind Darcy, putting his hands on her shoulders, rubbing out the tension of her neck. For a moment he thought she would cringe at his touch, and she might have even tried, but he didn't care now. He felt a need to touch her.

Dark thoughts ran through his mind.

"You're my wife, Darcy. Do you not remember the good times we had together... the fun? You were my little play thing, you used to love teasing me, kneeling by my side. You used to enjoy pleasing me, finding your own happiness in that."

She had just lost her way somehow. Being gone for so long had done something to her, and Jason simply had to find some trigger that would bring her back. He thought back to the time she felt her most happy, most sexually thrilling.

Their best time together would have been when he tied her up. He could remember her squealing and giggling the ropes were too tight. She came over and over again, crying out for him to stop, her body had run through a collage of sensation and everything became too tender to touch. She came so hard she soaked through their sheets and the bed itself.

Even now, those thoughts made Jason's grip on her shoulders tighten, digging ito her.

Yes, he had to find that in her again. The streak of playful submission.

"We can do that again... Darcy. Just think back to what turned you on the most. Think back to why you chose to love honor and obey me."

He enjoyed saying that last part. Obey me.

It sent delightful shivers down his spine.