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Her "daddy" needs to be in control.

We grew up together. Always knew we'd be together some day. No mystery there."

There was a bit of mystery, though. David had never said what his fianc__e's name was. And he had exclusively talked about her in the past tense. He had buddies in the Navy he talked about in the present tense. I don't know if Leila caught onto that, but I sure did. He'd talked up how close knit he and his Navy buddies were. Leila didn't catch the inference of that either.

After repeating that she was in the dark and nearly deserted coach section two carriages back, she left.

A couple of minutes after she'd gone, I got up and walked up the car and sat in a seat facing the view of blackness outside the speeding train two seats down from him. Not too close. I didn't want to spook him. I'd done this before. Often. I enjoyed doing this. David watched me approach and sit, but sideways, like maybe he wasn't watching me but, rather, was mesmerized by the view of a dark countryside through a window that reflected more of his and my faces and bodies than what was outside the train. We searched each other's faces in the reflection of the glass.

"Navy, eh?" I asked. I doubted he would have the courage to start this dance. "I overheard you." Who could have avoided overhearing him? "My name's Frank."

"Yeah, I caught that."

"I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying." And what you were avoiding saying, I continued in my thoughts.

"Yeah. San Diego. I'm attached to the Merlins of the Helicopter Sea Combat Squadron there. Great bunch of guys. We're really tight with each other."

"Yeah, guys in the service can really bond," I responded. "The Navy can bring guys really close-isolated at sea and at other duty stations like that. They can get really, really close. I know how that is. Been there, done that."

He didn't bite on that out loud, but I could tell he knew what I was inferring and condoning-and maybe even proposing. It hinted that I might not only have some special insight into some of the shit that came down in the Navy but that I also had been part of that. That's pretty much what I wanted him to infer.

"You?" he asked. "You in the service too?" He was looking at me in the reflection in the glass with needy eyes.

"Not now. I own a gym now."

"Yeah you look it," he couldn't help but say.

"But I was in the service," I added. "The Marines. And I know how it can be in the service. Guys sticking together. Depending on each other. Helping each other. Being close knit. Giving each other support . . . and relief."

"Yeah, that figures," he said. "You being in the Marines. Really squared away."

"I helped guys a lot in the Marines. Guys with special needs," I said. "I sort of specialized in taking care of guys." Time to take command. I moved over to the seat beside him and put a hand on his knee. He looked down at the hand but did nothing to move away from it or me.

"I was just going down to get a drink. Would you like me to get you one too?" I kept my voice low, hoarse like. It was a voice of pursuit known among guys with special interests. I was declaring myself as a seeking top. "Maybe another drink before we . . . well, you know."

"They've cut me off," he said, a slight edge of belligerence in his voice. I moved my hand farther up on his thigh and slightly to the inside. He spread his thighs for me and looked down at the hand.

This was going to be easy.

"I can get the drinks. They're about to close the bar and I can ask for two. I don't have to tell them one of them is for you."

"That would be great," he said, his eyes focused on my hand that had moved up his inner thigh, a finger extended up, touching what I knew would be something hardening up inside the material of his crotch. "Then afterward . . ."

"Yeah, afterward," he said, "I'd like that." His voice came out in a croak. Just like that, his flag of surrender had flipped up. But then I knew that's what he'd wanted all along.

When I came back, he was sitting there, staring at his reflection in the glass.

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