Foreign Territory (Active Duty #2)

Going In

Present day...

"You nervous?"

"No."

"You should be." Jason sniffed, then rapped his knuckles on the door.

Robin stiffened beside him on the front step, Jason did nothing to alleviate the man. He should be prepared. This could well be his hardest mission by far, and his harshest critic. Well, perhaps second harshest...

"Oh flipping heck!" Carly opened the door, hair set in heavy bright curlers and wrapped in a fluffy pink dressing gown. "Ain't you got a phone? Y'know, to call your mum and warn her you're coming home?"

"Phone died." Jason stepped in and kissed his mother's cheek, the familiar scent of her flowery perfume and hair products enveloping his nostrils. As much as his family exasperated the hell out of him, that welcome home would always warm his cockles. And they needed warming. He had a sudden urge to lay down in her lap and let her stroke through his hair to wipe away the few months' torment. He wouldn't though. He was an adult now. A decorated sergeant in the army, no less. He couldn't go crying to mummy and have her threaten to slap silly whoever had upset her little soldier.

"Least you didn't." Carly jerked Jason's chin from side to side.

Jason's turn to stiffen. But he didn't respond with anything else. It wasn't worth her knowing. And certainly wasn't worth reliving, he'll do that enough in his dreams.

"No Micky this time?" Carly waved her painted nails at Robin hovering in the door way. "You finally surgically removed him from your hip and replaced him with a younger model? Who's this one?"

Jason caught Robin's gaze, his nervous swallow and shift from one foot to the other. "That's Robin." It was all Jason's voice would croak out.

Robin leaned forward and held out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Williams."

"I ain't no Missus. No man can tie me down." Carly slipped her fingers into Robin's hand, almost like she was a debutante wanting a hand peck. She was far from it.

"Sorry, Miss Williams." Robin shook her fingers, then clutched his hand behind his back.

"Now that just makes me sound like a little girl. And I'm far from one of them. And don't say Ms, I'm no lesbian or spinster."

"Mum!" Jason rolled his eyes.

"What?" She shrugged then offered a flirtatious smile to Robin. "Call me Carly, love."

"Carly, then." Robin smiled.

Carly pointed a finger in his face. "No late night drinking, no stolen goods, no coppers banging on my door." She stormed off the the kitchen.

Robin arched an eyebrow. Jason snorted and ushered him in, ripping off his heavy boots. The clunk of footwear banging against the thin carpet gave Jason a moment's pause for thought. He opened his mouth to say something, but his mother's holler from the kitchen cut him off.

"Cuppa, love?"

"Cheers Mum. NATO." Jason hobbled on through with Robin trailing behind and he grunted, leaning against the counter.

Slamming the kettle onto the holster, Carly twisted and narrowed her eyes. "Are you fucking limping?"

"A little."

Carly gasped, hand to her mouth. Then stepped forward and fussed over Jason, twisting him one way then the other, lifting up his top and sleeves.

"Gerroff, mother!"