The good fight

by Gail

Fandom: JAG

Admiral Chegwidden/Gunnery Sergeant Galindez

Rating: R

Summary: The admiral and the Gunny finally have that boxing match.

Disclaimer: No, of course neither of these characters belongs to me, because if they did, I'd have a serious problem with my marriage and have to return them immediately to their real owners, CBS and Belisarius Productions.

Warnings: A little m/m sex, and a reference to m/f sex. Oh, and I know nothing about boxing. I'm sure it shows, although Greg did his best to set me straight. PWP.

Spoilers: King of the Greenie Board.

Notes: This would come after King of the Greenie Board but before The Return. And I hate AIDS, so it's not in this universe, and so no safe sex. Please don't do this at home.

Heartfelt thanks to Greg, who actually likes that I write slash fiction instead of something saleable, and who offered to beta this so that I could surprise my usual betas, Mareen and Katja, who haven't had the pleasure of seeing the Gunny yet.

THE GOOD FIGHT

By Gail

It's been a long day, but I'm finally free. When I leave the office, I give Tiner that look, and he nods. He'll say I'm unavailable, take messages, tell no one where I am unless it's really urgent. And that's at the gym. Time for a workout, something to relax me. And it should be just me. Usually is.

I'm hanging up my uniform when I hear the door open. Damn. I get myself under control. Probably someone who forgot something. And I have every right to be here. I run this place. I get the pants on and finish getting the uniform straightened away.

The person enters, stays, says nothing. I can hear him stripping down, but I'm not looking. That way I'm telling him that I'm not to be disturbed. And he's honoring that. Very good. So who is it?

I let my head move just enough to see. Ah. The new man, Gunnery Sergeant Galindez. The Marine that Mac brought in to help. The cocky Marine boxer...shut up, A. J. He's a good man, doing a fine job. So what if he's got an attitude about SEALs? He'll learn. In time. And he hasn't made the mistake of crossing me yet. Smart.

His eyes see me watching and he gives a short nod. "Admiral." Very even tone.

"Gunnery Sergeant." Mine is just as even. Then I turn and head for the gym. I'm not going to lose this time. I need it too much. Running in the morning just isn't enough to get out the stresses of heading up JAG some times.

I get settled on one of the weight machines and start pumping. He comes in, glances at me, takes the one next to me. And I can see him checking out how much I've got loaded on before he sets his own weight. Which, of course, ends up being just heavier than mine.

You want to make this a contest, Gunnery Sergeant? I smile to myself. This SEAL can take you any day. But I don't need to prove it. I know it. And I keep doing my reps, concentrating on taking them just right, making it a good workout. Making it what I need.

The Gunny is settled in and pumping when I glance over at him. He's doing good, face wet with sweat and concentrating too. Not bad. For a marine.

I finish my reps and sit up.

"Sir."

He's stopped too, still on the bench, though. Probably did a little more than he should have. That's what you get for showing off, son. I keep my smile to myself. He is under my command, but I don't know him well enough to jab him, not like I would Rabb if he made that same cocky kind of mistake. I sigh a little. Rabb. When is he going to figure out that he's just too old to keep up with the kids and get back where he belongs? Then I chuckle and remember what I'm doing. Pretty close to the same thing. And then that someone under my command has addressed me and I haven't responded.

"Yes, Gunnery Sergeant?"

His dark eyes are calm and intent as they look at me. And he's sitting up now. Must have recovered. "Sir, I know that this is out of line, and feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you'd be interested in having that boxing match."

So he does remember our face-off. "You'd really like to do that, Galindez?"

"If the admiral would be interested. Just a friendly match, sir."

I take a long look at him. He's respectful, serious, and very interested. And so am I.

I've got reach and height on him. I can take him.

"As long as you understand that this..."

He interrupts me. "The admiral will not have any problems from me regardless of the outcome, sir." His face has something in it that I know damned well. Confidence.

He really thinks he's going to beat me. I can feel the smile spreading over my face, the one that stretches my lips wide, leaving my teeth bare and ready to strike. Just like the last time we talked about this.

"Good, Gunny. Very good. So when?"

He looks a little startled by that, but recovers. "Would tomorrow be convenient for the admiral, sir?"

"I'm right here, Gunny. You're not making this appointment with Tiner."

"No, sir. I understand, sir."

He almost smiled then. I run a quick eye over him. Standing now, and in damned good shape. I'd better be sure to eat a good carbo dinner, get enough rest, and think mean and vicious thoughts tonight. I really want to take him. It's been much too long since I've done anything that promises to be this much fun.

"Where and when?"

"I have a friend who's got a small place, just enough room for a ring. Nice and private."

I nod. It wouldn't be intelligent to have this fight where anyone could find out about it. It would be frowned upon. To my mind, it's our damned business.

"And," he coughs, "I need to get some things done in the morning. Would the afternoon be all right? About three?"

Just a little uncertain. Good. But I don't want him intimidated by my rank. This is going to be between two men, not a gunnery sergeant and an admiral. If he's going to be intimidated, I want it to be from *me* and me alone. I walk over to him, getting right up into his personal space. He draws a sharp breath but doesn't move.

"That will be just fine," I pause, "Galindez. Or do you prefer Victor?"

His tongue darts out to touch his lips. What the hell is this? Then he's smiling. Must have been a reflex of some kind. No problem.

"All right." It's his turn to pause. "Chegwidden. And either is fine."

"I prefer A. J.," I say very dryly and keep my laugh to myself. This could be a lot of fun. He's definitely going to be hard to beat. And I like that. I don't want a pushover. I could get one of those anywhere. I want a challenge. And I've always enjoyed a good one.

"Shall I leave the address with you, sir?"

I think about correcting him, but hell, we're still at work, and I can't fault his manners. "That would be fine, Gunny. Drop it on my desk." And I make sure to use his title as well.

There's a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. "I'll be looking forward to it, sir." He pauses. "A. J."

I give him a smile back, then move back to the weight machine for some more reps. I know he's still there, because I can hear his breathing, even though I can't see him.

"I'm really looking forward to it," he says very softly and I hear his footsteps go toward the locker room.

When he's gone, I let myself stop and think. Really looking forward to it? Then I get back to my reps. If he's really looking forward to it, I'm definitely going to have to make sure he has a good time losing. Because nobody beats me if I can help it.

*****************

´ I drive into the small parking lot at three-forty-five the next day and see that there's only one other car there. I assume that it's the Gunny's, no, Galindez's, vehicle. And when I get inside the open door, he's standing there, waiting, in a pair of gym shorts and an old t-shirt that clings to him. Hmm. I hope he never wears this around the more impressionable members of my staff. I can see the fights starting.

"Nice to see you, sir."

"I thought we covered that, Galindez." I can't help snapping. I want this fight. And he's managed to get ahead of me, goddamn it.

"Sorry, A. J." And he smiles. "Dressing room's over there. And gloves over there."

I can see where he's pointing each time. Not bad for a small place. Ring, water bottles on the apron, cinder block walls painted the same light green as all the other places I've fought. Fine.

"What, no locker room?" But I'm pleased. A little more time alone to get ready will be good. I get a better grip on my gym bag and head toward the door he's pointing at.

"Oh, A. J." And I turn to look at him. "I'm not going to throw this because you're an admiral," he says very softly.

I give him my best SEAL smile. "No, Galindez. You're going to lose because I'm better than you are."

I get into the room and close the door, but I swear I hear him let out a small laugh. He'll pay for that.

Then I change, do some stretching, get myself focused, breathing in a steady, deep rhythm, letting everything but the fight-to-come slip away from me as I change. When I come out, I'm A. J., and I want to beat this guy. That's all that's left.

He's waiting, already inside the ring. "Didn't get a ref," he says, and there's *something* in his voice that tells me I'm missing a clue. But, hell, it's just not there. "Hope that's all right. I set the timer. Five rounds, each three minutes, and thirty seconds to recover?"

"Just fine, Victor." He starts at the use of his name. Very good. I get into position and fix my eyes on him, circle, wait. He jabs first, and I counter.

It's begun.

******************

The third round, and neither of us has landed a decent blow, dammit. Some fight. I've kept him away, but can't seem to touch him. Too damn fast, but I've had quick ones before. Set him up in a corner, if I can't catch him off guard. Hmm.

"What's the matter, Victor?" Time to step it up, get him to lose some control. "Hell, Mac would do better than you."

He actually manages a laugh. "Fighting Mac would be something I'd love, A. J. Wouldn't you?"

I tense at that. Sarah's not for someone like him. She's a fine woman, who's going to find a man who's at least got a commission, if and when she decides that's what she wants. Not this cocky boy. "Oh? She'd whip your ass, Victor."

"Any time," he gasps.

"You like losing, Victor?" I try a punch to his hard abdomen, but he evades it and comes for my face. I duck and come around to face him again.

"Hell, maybe she'd pin me with her legs, let my mouth near that sweet pussy. All it'd take was one kiss, one lick, and she wouldn't give a damn about anything but getting more." He's circling, eyes bright and unfocused. Mistake. "I'd make it so good for her..."

He licks his lips, steps the wrong way, and I've got him. He's mine. I smash one good blow into the ribs, then another, then his leg hooks mine, and I'm on the floor, Victor pinned under my body.

"You little shit," I breathe. And he's laughing. Something's going on here, something I need to know. And fast.

"Yeah, A. J." His body twists under mine. Trying to get up? Not likely. I'll make sure of that. "I've seen you looking at her. Gorgeous, isn't she? I thought she'd be your weak spot. What, tried and got nowhere? Maybe I should ask her if she wants to fight. Bet she'd take me down a hell of a lot quicker than you did. And enjoy it even more."

There's something pressing into my leg, and it's not a gun. It's been so damned long since I fought, I'd forgotten about the ones who challenged and wanted to lose. The ones who *needed* to lose. I always liked fighting them.

"You *do* like losing."

He lets out another low laugh. "So you finally get the picture, A. J. Only sometimes. To some men." He arches up, into me. God, I'm ready. "Going to do anything about it?"

This is insane. He's under my command.

And he's hard as a rock and begging for it.

"Or do I go in Monday and start finding out what it's going to take to get the colonel interested?"

"Don't. Fuck. With. Her."

If Sarah wants him, fine. She's a grown woman. But he'd better let her make the first move. I can break this boy, and he'd damned well better know that.

"I thought you'd say something like that. So, you'll fuck with me?" He's panting, mouth falling open. Nice mouth. Hope he knows how to use it. "To save the colonel?"

"The colonel can save herself," I breathe into his ear, then take his lobe between my teeth and bite down, just hard enough for him to know I've got teeth ready to use. He lets out a low moan. "That what you like, Victor?"

"I like it any way you want to give it to me," he breathes back and thrusts his hips up. "No one's going to interrupt us here. Show me what you like."

"Tell me, do I need to keep you pinned here to do that, or do you concede?" I grind down harder against him to help him make his decision, and he moans.

"I," he's having trouble talking now, "concede." He takes a trembling breath. "A. J."

Oh, so good to hear that. Cocky boy knows who just beat him, and that's me.

The bell goes off. End of this round. I get off him and in the same motion pull him up. He's all hard muscle, all heat, and he's leaning into me, big brown eyes finding mine.

"I'd like some more privacy for this, Victor." And I smile at him, the smile from before. All bared teeth. "Where?"

"Dressing room's best."

He's got this avid look on his face. He wants this. No wonder he told me he was looking forward to it. He's probably been thinking about getting beat by me since the interview. That thought makes me harder, and I'm glad that we're doing this somewhere safe.

"Then get in there." And I push him back, not much, but he staggers. Then recovers and flashes me a smile that's even more avid.

"How do you want me?"

"You just get in there, Victor." My voice has gone low. Damn, I have missed this. "I'll tell you what you need to know when you need to know it."

Those very, very big brown eyes go even bigger and hotter before he turns around and heads for the dressing room door. I follow right behind him, light and ready to go a few more rounds as the bell rings again, although I don't think I'll have to. I've already won.

To the victor belong the spoils. Except this time, the spoils are Victor.

He's just inside the door, panting, licking his lips. He doesn't say a word. Good. I drop my gloves on the floor, beside his, and stare at him until he drops those eyes. Only then do I speak.

"Knees."

And he's down on the concrete floor, not a single sound from him even though I know it has to hurt. Very good for a marine.

I remember the crack about holding his own, especially when he fought SEALs, but all it does is make me smile. He's holding his own just fine now, mouth open and ready. I think about having him strip, but he looks good with the sweat darkening his t-shirt, and there's always later.

I haul out my cock and hold it out to him. He makes a hungry noise and leans in to take it. Perfect.

I manage a few more words as the warmth and wetness of his mouth show me how much I have to look forward to.

"Slow, Victor. Make it last."

His eyes flick up to meet mine and I know he'll do what I say. I close my eyes to let myself enjoy it, then open them again. I like watching him work.

I wonder just where that bullet mark is in his ass. I do intend to find out.

*****************

"Admiral." Those brown eyes find mine. "Did you have a good weekend, sir?"

Too damned many people around. "A fine one, Gunny. And you?"

"Just fine, sir." A quick look. "Worked out. Spent some time with a friend." Interesting choice of words. But I wouldn't argue. "Hoping to do it again soon."

Message received. "I'm sure you can manage that."

He smiles. And my message received, too. "Good to hear, sir."

He heads off to get something for somebody, and I let myself smile, teeth and all. Maybe some day I'll even get him to put up a decent fight first. I'll have to talk to him about that.

I'm sure that he'll do it if I tell him it's the only way to get what he wants.

THE END