Author's note: no sex, no violence, just a couple 'naughty words'

Pleased that his comrades had so much confidence in him, and bursting with pride that *he* would be the one to find the Colonel's special 'gift', Cooper wasted no time in getting started. His first discovery was that the direct approach didn't work.

The direct approach consisted of walking up to the first woman he saw and blurting: 'Uh, would you like to, you know, 'do it', with our Colonel?' The woman in question, a Master Sgt. First Class R. Ward he observed from her name tag, favored him with a look that could have curdled milk at 50 meters, which lead Coop to believe that perhaps she hadn't understood the question. So, he repeated it, slowly.

After picking himself up, and having determined none of his teeth were missing, Cooper continued his search.

His next stop was the mess hall, where he sized up the potential candidates and finally settled on a 2nd Lt. drinking cappuccino by herself at a corner table. She was much less intimidating than the Master Sgt., so Coop promptly forgot the lesson he'd learned earlier and asked *her* the same question.

The name on her id badge was S. Songer. Coop remembered that afterwards because the name was pressed into his forehead from when she caught him in a headlock. When he regained consciousness, and having removed the french fries someone had stuck in his nose and ears, he doggedly set out again on his quest.

He found his next possibility sunning herself in the Saratoga's sun room. Amidst the potted palms, and projection screen images of the beach and ocean, she was reclining on a lounger and reading a book Coop noted to be a Romance. Wang had told him all about *those books*, so Coop took it as a favorable sign she was eager to 'do it'.

Coop really had learned his lesson about the direct approach now, so he tried something different. He asked the attendant who was serving drinks to take a message to her. Unfortunately, in concentrating so hard on writing his message, he forgot the previous lessons and asked if she would be willing to fuk--fook--that is, fuck their Colonel.

The last thing Coop remembered was a screech like an angry nighthawk. When he awoke, and having determined all of his essential parts were still present, Coop pulled himself up and walked gingerly out of the sun room , undeterred in his mission.

Coop felt as though he had trudged for miles along the Saratoga's corridors when he found himself outside a hatch in the ship's dispensary. The name plate on the door read 'Dr. Angy-- Ship's Counselor'. By now, Coop felt he could use some counseling, so he knocked and heard a female voice invite him to enter.

Coop thought the office was real pretty with its blue and white chintz curtains at the porthole window, warm fuzzy throw rugs and chairs that looked like they wouldn't make your butt ache. Better still, Dr. Angy wasn't an old lady like he'd figured she would be.

Leaning forward, smiling patiently, she listened to Coop's sad story. Every once in a while would murmur sympathetically and nod her head. Coop told her everything--everything, that is, except *who* the woman he was supposed to find was *for*.

When he finished his account, Dr. Angy thought about it a moment or two then kindly offered to help him out by paying this 'friend' of his a 'visit'. Cooper was elated! Stammering, he told her how to find the Colonel's quarters.

Coop wasn't sure how a guy's legs could get twisted up around his neck like that, but that's how he found himself when he regained consciousness. He also didn't think it was very funny that Dr. Angy had left him beside the garbage disposal bin and pinned a note to his jumpsuit that read 'Janitor: please recycle.' Coop couldn't remember how he got there. Actually, Coop didn't remember much of anything after she shrieked 'A nipple neck!? You want to me to do it with a *nipple neck*!?'

Although he was trying hard to maintain the proper 'do or die' Marine Corps attitude, Coop was becoming despondent over his lack of success. The other Wildcards were counting on him, after all, and he didn't want to let them down. He just *couldn't* go back empty-handed!

Coop thought about getting the Colonel one of those blow- up dolls Wang had told him about, but when he checked at the PX all they had were guy blow-up dolls, and Coop didn't think the Colonel would like that. He kept it in mind though, just in case he got *really* desperate.

He was getting tired, so Coop leaned against the bulkhead and tried to think. Thinking wasn't easy for him on the best of days--in fact, it made his head hurt--and today wasn't one of the best days by any means.

Coop didn't expect to be disturbed since he'd picked a deserted corridor where no one hardly ever came, so he was surprised when someone sidled up next to him. He looked at the stranger and frowned.

Coop wondered if the Corps was having a hard time finding guys who'd join up, because the stranger was even scruffier than *he* had been when he lived on the streets. It was bad enough his uniform was sloppy--worse fitting than Wang's boots even, like he'd got all the wrong sizes of everything--but what *really* pissed Cooper off, they'd made *him* cut his hair, but this guy got away with wearing it longer than Vansen's!

It just wasn't *fair*, but Coop knew the war wasn't going so good, and maybe the Corps was desperate. Also, he thought he should probably be nice to the guy since he was wearing sunglasses, and no one wore sunglasses on the 'Toga unless they'd hurt their eyes somehow. They didn't look like the ones 'Phouse had worn when she hurt her eyes, but maybe there was a different kind for guys.

The stranger smiled at him, but it wasn't a nice smile. In fact, it made Coop *very* nervous.

"I understand you're looking for a woman..for your Colonel.." the stranger said smoothly.

Coop was suspicious, thinking maybe this was the boyfriend of one of one of the women he'd approached, but he was also getting desperate and it sounded like this stranger had something in mind. So Coop nodded and said 'Uh huh..'

"In that case," the stranger purred, "I know just the lady you're looking for.."

"You do?" Coop blurted.

The stranger nodded, beckoning Coop to follow. A ways down the corridor, he pointed to one of the hatches. "This is where my friend is staying. I'll let her know your Colonel is coming.."

Coop couldn't believe his luck. There had to be a catch, and he was afraid he knew what it was. "How much is it gonna cost?" he asked, worried.

"Not a single penny," the stranger assured him. "Think of it as my contribution to giving Colonel McQueen what he so richly..deserves.."

Ecstatic, Coop hurried away to tell the other Wildcards.

Colonel McQueen didn't know what to say when the Wildcards told him about his birthday gift. There were a lot of things he would have *liked* to say, but one look at their earnest, smiling faces and he just didn't have the heart to ream them out. These were *his kids*. And besides, based on his own lack of success in the past, he knew just how much trouble they must have gone to in order to find a woman willing to bed him.

So, despite his reservations, McQueen thanked them gruffly, took the directions Cooper gave him to the woman's cabin, and went away with growing anticipation. It *had* been a long time since he got any.

He found the cabin exactly where Hawkes said it would be, and after a pause while he straightened his composure, gave a discreet knock. The panel slid open, and McQueen stepped across the threshold.

The cabin was romantically lit, meaning he couldn't see much at first, but as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness he made out a female form reclining on the bed. She was a decidedly plump woman, but long, dark hair fell across her ample bosom and McQueen thought 'What the hell--why not?' It *had* been a very, *very* long time..

"I'm Colonel McQueen," he said politely.

She smiled sweetly, then McQueen's blood ran cold because she threw back her head and laughed. It sounded like a donkey braying, and when she spoke her nasal voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

"I know--and *I'm* Roseann-B, 3478--a silicate to make you scream--and I'm gonna be your *date* tonight!"

The End

Back : To General Fiction