An Officer and A Gentlemen Contest

Title: Walk in Beauty

Your pen name(s): einfach mich

Branch of Service/Profession: Marines (WWII Navajo Code Talkers)

Pairing: Edward/Jacob

If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this contest visit the "An Officer and a Gentleman " C2 Community:

http : // www(dot)/community/The_Perv_Packs_An_Officer_and_a_Gentleman_Contest_Entries/76389/

Author's Note: I would like to thank Kimpy0464 for not just being an excellent beta, but also a very supportive friend. I really do not know what I did to deserve her, but every day I strive to earn her love. I would also like to thank Kaycannon for being a wonderful content beta and providing me with invaluable feedback.

NOTICE: There is a translation key for all the Navajo words/phrases, used in this story, at the end of the story.

All copyright and trademarked items mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. The remaining content is all mine. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization.

I'm lying like a dead log under a pile of wet leaves, branches, and grass. Jacob left me here to do a patrol of the area. I'm doing my best to breathe as quietly as possible. At least the pain in my leg has subsided.

It seems like we've been trapped in the damp jungle on this Philippine island forever. I've never even heard these islands; I'm not here for my geography skills. Jacob is the one that has to remember the intel, not me. I'm here to protect Jacob and the code.

"Okay, boys," Sergeant McCarty roared around his damp, unlit cigar. "We're droppin' in two-man teams. You better go in quieter than a mouse fartin' in church. Keep your noses down, and report back any enemy activity. This is strictly a recon mission. We are not to engage the enemy."

He swiveled on his heel, and stared right at Jasper.

"Got that Shitcock?" He was still riding Jasper's ass after he got us into a bar fight while we were on leave in Honolulu.

When we parachuted in, my weight pack didn't fall like it's supposed to; as I tried to get it to drop, I collided with a tree. I managed to make it through that without injury. When Jacob climbed up to cut me loose, the branch that I was holding on to broke like a dead twig, and I crashed to the ground in a painful heap.

Jacob looked pale as a ghost when I regained consciousness. I would have laughed if the pain burning through my leg and up to my hip didn't bring me close to vomiting. He dragged me several yards, until we found a small clearing in the center of a dense circle of bushes. He had to crawl on his belly, pulling me along by my arms, to get under the bushes and into the clearing. The searing pain this action caused was worth it, in order to achieve cover and shelter from the constant drizzle.

Even in the shelter, I was still constantly damp, but it could have been worse, so much worse. Once I had time to check my leg, I was relieved to find it wasn't broken. I think I've just damaged my hamstring. I guess I'm lucky that my father's a doctor.

"Ayid," a voice whispers nearby, and I let myself relax.

"Here," I whisper against the wet leaf that's been trying to slide into my mouth for the past hour.

"They're gone." Jacob's voice is closer, and I feel the branches lift off of me. "They broke camp, and it looks like they're moving south. I think we're safe for now, though I'm going to continue my night watches."

He leans over me, his face pitch black from his camouflage face paint, making his warm brown eyes glitter, and his white teeth shine. I've always been jealous of how he looks like a real warrior in his face paint, unlike me. I look ridiculous. Embry says I look like I'm in blackface, which just makes me feel even sillier in my face paint than I do already. Sarge insists that we wear it, especially me with my pale skin - I practically glow in the dark.

"Thank you," I sigh, taking his offered hand and letting him pull me up into a sitting position. "I thought you'd finally done the smart thing and left me behind."

"I'd never leave you, Cullen," he says, with a strange look on his face as he gently brushes the dirt and leaves from my uniform.

"I think I'm clean enough," I try to sound humorous, but I feel a little guilty as he immediately stops touching me.

"Right," his voice sounds strained as he turns away from me.

"How about we try to radio again?" I suggest, hoping that it will ease the awkwardness, and he nods. I lean over, ignoring the sharp pain it sends through my leg.

"Let me," he grumbles, batting my hand away from my pack, and pulls out the radio.

It's was damaged in my fall. We can't use it to call to the rest of the unit, but we can still listen to them transmit the code. Jake's been tracking their movements, hoping that they will get close enough to our location so he can signal them.

"Thanks," I mumble as he puts it in my lap, and starts to wipe off his face paint with a rag.

I switch on the radio, and the sound of Embry's voice fills the air. He speaks in the short, stilted patter of the code, and Jacob's face takes on a stoic look of concentration as he listens. Navajo is such a strange and beautiful language. Ever since I joined the battalion, I've been fascinated by the work that these guys do.

"Cullen!" Sarge screamed for me, and I came running over as fast as my legs could carry me.

"Sir," I said, saluting him.

"At ease," Sarge said with a nod, and turned to slap a hand on the shoulder of a tall Indian solider. "This here is Private Black. He's the key to a new plan that the Fourstars say is going to win this war."

As the Sarge continued to tell me about my new assignment as a bodyguard, I took a moment to watch Private Black. He was the same height as me, but what my lanky body lacked in muscle tone, Black made up for in spades. Skin the color of burnt copper stretched over the bulging muscles of his arms and narrow features of his face.

"He's going to be nearer and dearer to you than your Johnson. You read me, Cullen?" Sarge asked as Private Black turned his eyes toward me. As our eyes met, a strange sensation passed through me, making me feel feverish and dizzy.

"Yes, Sir!" I replied, tearing my eyes from my new comrade and wishing that the disorienting feeling would pass.

"Embry just confirmed that the enemy has moved ten clicks south of this location." He speaks in a quiet voice, his head tilts toward the radio. Embry is still talking. "Sarge wants them to confirm that it's clear. Then, they're going to start doing sweeps of the island to look for us."

"Thank God," I sigh, and Jacob smiles at me.

"Help is on the way," he gives my arm a gentle punch, and I smile back at him.

"Are you hungry?" Jacob asks, turning to uncover the small fire pit that he made for cooking.

"Starving," I grimace as my stomach makes a loud gurgling sound.

"Here," he says, throwing the last Hershey's bar from his ration kit.

I'm too hungry to argue with his sacrifice. I tear open the wrapper and take a huge bite, and moan as the silky sweet chocolate starts to melt in my mouth. Jacob is leaning over the cooking pit, carefully stacking bits of wood and paper, and grabs his lighter. He pulls off his uniform shirt, leaving him in a thin, sweat-drenched undershirt. I drag my eyes from the flexing muscle of his back to look down at his shirt folded neatly on the ground next to two dead lizards.

"Aww Mom, meatloaf again?" I repeat one of Embry's favorite sayings, and Jacob bursts into laughter.

"You'll eat it and you like it!" Jacob barks back at me, in an impressive impression of the Sarge's bark. I can't help but laugh.

It's peculiar that I feel so at ease. We are in a foreign jungle, in enemy territory cut off from our troop, but something about being here with Jacob makes me feel safe. I watch as Jacob prepares and cooks the lizards over the tiny fire. It's so odd, but they really do taste like chicken. We rest in a comfortable silence, the sound of the jungle playing like a strange symphony all around us.

Suddenly, Embry's voice blares out of the radio, jerking me out of my thoughts.

"I think that I've listened to this radio long enough that I can speak Navajo now," I complain, laying my candy bar down, and jiggle the volume to turn it down a little.

"That's doubtful," Jacob says, his smile quickly turning into a grimace as I shift to my back, and hiss as the pain shoots up my leg into my hip.

"You doubt my abilities?" I ask, trying to distract him with a challenging look.

"Oh, no," he laughs hard, shaking his head. "Far be it for me to doubt the great talents of Edward Cullen."

"Smart boy," I say, as I awkwardly fold my arms, trying to look stern, and wise. I'm only a year older than Jacob, but I try to make sure to remind him about it ever chance I get.

"It's just..." he pauses, giving me a curious look. "Do you need another shot?"

I nod, and wait while he pulls out the last dose of morphine from the emergency ration kit. I turn my head as I feel the sharp sting of the needle in my hip. The pain is quickly replaced by a comforting warmth spreading through my body. I lean back, and sigh as the relief from the pain allows me to focus clearly on the dark, sharp features of his face.

Jacob puts away the needle, and then catches me looking at him. He smiles for a few seconds and I remember that he was going to say something before he mentioned the shot.

"What?" I say, frowning at him.

"You look ridiculous," he booms with laughter, and I toss my half eaten Hershey's bar at him. He catches it, and immediately takes a bite of it.

"I meant, what were you about to say?" I ask, stifling the smile that creeps across my face as I watch him quickly swallow his mouthful of chocolate to speak.

"It's nothing," he shrugs, and takes another bite of my candy bar.

"I will throw this radio at you," I try to sound threatening, but I end up sounding whiny.

"All right," he laughs, sinking down to the ground next to me. "That's not Navajo, not really."

"Jacob," I groan softly, and he smiles. There's something about the way he smiles, it changes his face from his usual stern, stoic expression to something softer and sweeter.

"The code is just a bunch of words," his voice sounds tired, and his smile starts to fade. "Navajo isn't like English. I can't just point at a rock, and call it a rock. There is meaning behind everything we say and do."

He sighs again and drags his hands through his hair. I smile, knowing that he's picked up the gesture from me, but I don't comment on it.

"We see the world in a very different way. All of us, you and me, we are made of the same...stuff. I'm not explaining it right. I'm sorry. "

"No," I blurt out, and immediately feel self-conscious. "I mean, you're doing fine, please continue."

"If you're sure," Jacob sighs, as he leans back against his pack. I can only manage to nod, as I watch his thick, muscled arms stretch behind his head. I try to ignore the way my mouth goes dry as I notice that the skin on the underside of his arms seems lighter. It reminds me of the color of coffee.

"A little bit of a milk, and a whole lot of sugar," my mother would say as she made my morning cup of coffee.

My mind fills with the memory of the smoky, sweet flavor and silky texture of coffee sliding down my throat as I watch Jacob lick a smudge of chocolate from his bottom lip.

"We believe that all living things are connected, that they are filled by the Sacred Wind. It gives us life. We share in that connection when we breathe," he talks in a strange, dreamy tone. "It travels through us when we speak. Our language is an expression of the respect we have for our connection to...everything."

I want to speak. I want to tell him that spirit originates from the Latin word for breath, but I don't want to interrupt him. I want to know more.

"There's a saying, Sa'ah Naaghai Bik'eh Hozhoon," Jacob's voice is so deep and soothing as he speaks in his language. It sounds like a familiar song, to which I've forgotten the words. "I can't properly translate it into English, but it is about how we should try to protect and honor that connection in every way. It's part of why I enlisted."

"That's beautiful," I whisper, unable to contain myself any longer. He smiles again, and it makes my chest ache. His words make me feel like I'm in church, hearing the words of Father O'Connor.

He shakes his head, as he leans back, and digs in his pocket. He pulls out the loop of string that I've seen him play with many times. I smile as I watch his fingers weave the string into an intricate pattern. It reminds me of a game my sister, Alice, plays with her friends.

"Ayid," he says my nickname, and I realize that I've been staring at his hands for too long.

"Sorry," I reply, and feel my cheeks flush.

"No," he laughs, and raises his hands. "I mean this is Ayid." The string is woven into an intricate, square pattern.

"Oh," I say, confused.

"It means chest," he says, pulling his hands back till his thumbs hit his chest. "Actually, it means protection of what is vital to the body."

I am at a loss for words, as I suddenly understand the depth of what I thought was a simple nickname.

"I hope you don't mind that I use it for you," Jacob says, looking almost embarrassed. He tilts his head away from me, and shadows obscure his face. "It seems appropriate."

"I think," I pause, unable to explain the strange torrent of emotions stirring inside me. "I like it."

I feel pathetic the moment it comes out of my mouth. I roll onto my back, and grunt at the pain it shoots through me.

"Edward," his voice is strained, as he leans over me.

"I'm fine," I reassure him, trying to not show my discomfort as I lean back.

"You should rest," he says, placing his hand on my chest. His hands feel so warm, and I can feel his hot breath on my face. I struggle, but I can't hold back the shudder that runs through me. "Are you cold?"

"Yes," I lie, and pray for forgiveness.

"Here," he sighs, reaching down to grab his blanket, and drapes it over me. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you," I whisper, with a nod, and pull the blankets up to try to cover my shameful blush.

He places his hand on my forehead, and I close my eyes. I fight the urge to whimper as I feel the weight of his hand disappear.

"Those things smell like they are done. I'm going to douse the fire," he says, as he moves away. "Try to get some rest."

He pulls the charred bodies of the lizards from the fire, and sets them on his jacket. The air is filled with the aromatic scent of cooking meat, but my appetite is gone, chased away by the hurricane of confusion rolling through my mind. Jacob starts to scoop up handfuls of dirt and tosses them on the fire to extinguish it.

I turn my eyes toward the sky, as the firelight diminishes and dies. My eyes quickly adjust to the dark, as I listen to Jacob shuffle around our campsite and prepare to start his watch for the night.

~**~

"Ayid," I can hear a heavenly voice speaking to me as something brushes against my face.

"Mmm," I mumble and shiver from the feeling of fingers sliding over my skin, and warmth envelopes the sides of my face.

"Ayid chxóóh yiik'ih dah sizí," the lovely voice sighs as I turn my head and my lips brush against calloused hands. Tingly pleasure washes over me as I moan, and repeat the movement.

"'ayóí 'ó'ó'ní shíni'." His words are barely a whisper, and the warm skin pressing against my lips trembles.

"Yes," I sigh, wanting more, and my reward is exquisite warmth pressing along the length of my body. I cry out at how good it feels.

"t'áá na'níle'dii bich'i' haasdzíí'!" he gasps, and starts to pull away.

"No," I say, grabbing at the warm flesh, and trying to pull it back to me. "Please."

My face flushes as hot breath caresses my skin, and I hear my heartbeat drumming in my ear. My eyes are still closed when my hand grasps the searing flesh of his arm; suddenly, I know that I'm awake, but I refuse to open my eyes. I'm afraid that if I do this will turn out to be a dream.

"Ch'éésh shich'i' nił pop?" He growls, and I shake beneath his touch.

"Yes," I answer in a stuttered sigh. I don't understand what he's saying, but I feel like I know his meaning.

His strong hand takes hold of my wrist, and I immediately release my hold on his arm. He moans in a long, low rumble, and he presses against my chest. I let him push me onto my back. His body is directly on top of mine, his weight pressing me into the ground, and I hold my breath.

"Jacob," I whisper his name, and his body presses even closer.

"Ayid?" His voice is threaded with concern. He's so close, I can feel his breath on my face.

I slowly open my eyes and I can barely comprehend what I see. Jacob's face is outlined in silver moonlight. His lips are parted as he stares down at me. My whole body is trembling as I stare at his dark eyes.

"Please," my voice leaves me as I reach up to touch his cheek, and gasp at the feel of his smooth skin beneath my fingers.

"Shaa nídiní'aah," Jacob whispers, leaning his face down and brushes his lips against mine.

A thrill courses through me, and I can't help but moan as Jacob slides his lips across my chin. I start to comb my fingers through his thick hair, loving the silky feel of it sliding through my hands.

"Is this really happening?" I ask. He captures my nipple through the thin cotton of my undershirt, making me groan.

I look down the line of my body and see him staring back at me. He smiles around my nipple and I feel the sting of his bite again, as if he is answering my question. I arch off the ground, and inadvertently thrust my groin against his chest and Jacob releases my nipple to laugh.

"Háágóó nił oohsxał?" His voice is like music washing over me as his strong hands seize my hips, his thumbs lifting the bottom of my shirt. His breath brushes over the bare skin of my stomach and I tense as pleasure rushes through me.

"What are you doing?" I moan, gently touching his cheek as his fingers tug at the front of my trousers.

He lifts his eyes to look at me as his warm hand wraps around me, I close my eyes against the intensity. He gently pulls me from of my pants and the humid air seems frigid against my tender, sensitive cock.

"Nizhoni," Jacob's voice is a whispered sigh. His hand starts to move over me, making me gasp as my hips jerk.

I'm no stranger to pleasuring myself, but this is different. His grip is so firm and the slow rhythm tingles my spine. I struggle to breathe through the tension that's making every muscle in my body stiffen. His movements are so surprising and unpredictable. I have to open my eyes to try to comprehend the magic that his hand is working on me.

His dark eyes are staring at me as he slowly lower his lips to place a soft, breathy kiss to the tip of my head. The sight of him poised over me nearly makes me lose the grip on my control. His muscular arm is like an iron rod next to my hip, holding his weight as the thick fingers of his other hand all but cover me, except for my head that is pulsing beneath Jacob's full smiling lips.

I want this! From that first day, I've wanted you! I love you!

My thoughts scream inside my head. I only have the strength to hold back my climax as I shake beneath him. His beauty and strength are too much for me. I'm aching with the need to be closer to him, but I'm too afraid to speak the words. I clench my jaw, and tears leak for the corners of my eyes as I struggle with my warring desires and fears.

"Shi doo," he says with a sympathetic smile and lowers his mouth over me.

I gasp at the shocking pleasure screaming through my body as his mouth moves over me. His tongue slides with delicious, serpentine grace over every intimate part of me, and his strong hands move back to grip my hips. His head rises to reveal my pulsing flesh to the night air and then I shudder as I watch it disappear from sight, between his smooth, strong lips.

I don't want these searing waves of euphoria surging through me to end. I want Jacob's beautiful mouth to make love to me forever. Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I clutch at his thick wrist for the strength that I lack. I can't breathe, my body is as tight as a clenched fist, and I fight to stay in this perfect moment. Ecstasy, rapture, heaven; no words can describe the feelings that Jacob evokes in me as my climax explodes through me.

"Jacob," I choke out his name as I buck beneath him, his mouth still tightly sealed to my skin.

His heat remains, even after his mouth releases me, and he sits up. He stares down at me, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. The desire to proclaim my feelings overwhelms me.

"Shush. Ad jad. Be la sana. Moasi. Ba ah ne di tinin!" Embry's voice crackles through the radio, and I turn to stare at the metal box as fear grips me. Embry continues to speak the code, and I look back at Jacob. His face is stern. He stares at the radio, and begins to move off me. I start to struggle with my pants, feeling heat fill my face, and confusion turns my stomach.

"They're close by," he whispers and I glance over to see him donning his uniform jacket. "I've got to catch them, it's our only chance."

"Of course," I mumble, fastening my pants and pulling his blanket over me.

"Ayid," he sounds sad as he kneels beside me, and I try to smile despite the pain that's tearing my chest apart. He cradles my face in his warm hands, and I feel tears slide from my eyes as I gaze up at his handsome face.

His mouth covers mine in a soft press of warm flesh. I moan softly, allowing myself one last expression of my deepest desires for him as his tongue slides into my open mouth. Just as I reach out to hold him to me, he pulls back and stands.

I watch in turmoil as he disappears into the brush, and I lean back against my pack to wait for the unwelcome rescue.

~**~

When Jacob returned to our little camp with Embry and Jasper in tow, I knew that whatever happened between us had passed. Due to my leg injury, I got shipped back home and stationed behind a desk for the rest of my tour. I tried to keep track of the guys; my eyes always searched through tedious field reports for the name Black, but I never found anything.

On lonely nights, especially since my sweet Isabella passed, I would gaze up at the moon and think of that hot humid night in the jungle where I allowed myself to feel things for another man that I never have felt before or since.

~**~

"It is always a great honor to defend this country of ours, but it is a blessing to do so side by side with men of this caliber," Retired Colonel Jasper Whitlock speaks with an eloquence that I never knew he had, when we served together. I wish Sarge could be here to see him.

"As a good friend used to point out to me daily basis, the Navajo had been defending this land for many generations before my people set foot on it. Their love of freedom and beauty is part of everything they do, including in their language. The gift that they gave to us, with the code, is beyond measure. I would like to thank you, gentlemen."

Everyone rises and applause fills the small auditorium as twenty-one of the original Navajo Code Talkers stand to receive their medals from the President. I look at the faces, so changed by time that I barely recognize them. We were all so very young.

"First Lieutenant Embry Call, Corporal Jared Whitehorse, Private First Class Quil Ateara..." Jasper continues to read off their names as they step forward, but once the last of them accepts their medal, I realize that one name has not been called.

I do my best to stifle my tears. I should have known that this was a possibility. Sixty years is a long time, and there are several of our friends who did not make it. I had always held onto the hope that he was out there, somewhere. It was foolish to think that after all this time...I can't bear to finish the thought.

I rise from my seat and make my way out of the auditorium. I head toward the bright sunlight streaming through the glass entryway. I walk in a steady pace, ignoring the constant ache that my old injury still sends through my hip. I should have gotten corrective surgery for it years ago, but I couldn't let it go. I'd earned this injury as much as any medal. Walking down the white marble-lined corridor, my mind turns toward what brought me here: Alice, my sweet girl, my courage, and my sole source of strength since her mother passed. She is so much like her namesake, my bubbly little sister, who was taken from my family too soon by pneumonia. I wish she could have known my fearless, beautiful daughter, and her partner, Victoria, who is like a daughter to me, and the most loving partner for my Alice that I could have ever hoped for.

It was Victoria who listened to a half-drunk old man's confession on the night of his wife's funeral. I remember how I shook with grief and guilt as I revealed to her the secret that had haunted me for so many years.

"Mr. Cullen," she said, her beautiful, long fingers chasing the wet trails of my tears across my wrinkled cheeks.

"Edward," I told her, gently taking hold of her wrist and pulling it from my face. I looked down at her elegant hands cradled between my own twisted and withered claws.

"Edward," she sighed, her bright smile making me blink away more tears. "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Our hearts are so much bigger and complicated than we can ever comprehend. Your feelings for Jacob do not conflict with your love for Mrs. Cullen."

"I just feel like such a coward," I exclaimed, the sobs wracking my body, and she wrapped her long arms around my shoulders.

"I don't know; you look pretty brave from where I'm sitting," she whispered to me and held me tight.

It was with the support and encouragement of my daughters that I bought my ticket to Washington, D.C. to attend this ceremony in the hopes that I would see him again. I don't know what I expected, maybe just the sight of him and the knowledge that what happened that night was just as important to him as it has been to me.

"Ayid," a deep voice comes from behind me, and I feel my chest tighten as my palms begin to sweat.

Suddenly, I'm nineteen again, and nervous as hell. I turn to look into warm brown eyes. He's understandably older, deep grooves run across his dark skin, but as he smiles, time falls away, and I see Jacob; my Jacob.

"Jacob?" I stutter, as I say his name out loud for the first time in too many years.

"The one and only," he says, laughing.

"You weren't...I didn't see-" I stumble over my words, and he shakes his head.

"I respectfully declined," he says with a shrug. "I don't need a medal, though I appreciate the chance to see old friends."

His bright white teeth gleam in the sunshine. I just stand there, staring at him for a few seconds, and then his face changes. He gives me a look that makes me feel even more foolish.

"Edward," Jacob says my name in that same incredulous manner that I used to goad him into following my orders.

"Yes," I sigh, hoping that my pallid skin is hiding my embarrassment.

"Can I get a hug from an old friend?" He asks, his arms open in front of me, and my throat tightens.

I can only manage to nod, and he closes the distance. I'm wrapped in warmth. It feels like a homecoming. I exhale for so long, that I fear that I'm going to pass out. I can smell the freshly cut grass, coffee, and tobacco on his shirt. I close my eyes against my tears, and pray that my trembling will quiet before he notices.

"Don't cry," Jacob whispers against my hair, and my body shakes a little harder. "It hurts to remember, I understand."

"No," I say, pulling back from his arms. "I've just…It's been so long."

I'm covering again, making excuses, and talking over my secrets.

"Yes, too long, if you ask me." Jacob smiles, and briefly brushes my chin with his knuckle.

The touch is electric, and makes me step back to regain some control. His smile disappears, and I realize he's misinterpreted my movement. It strengthens my resolve. I need to be honest; I need to speak from my soul. I summon my courage, as I look to make sure that no one is close enough to hear me, and then I speak the words I've been studying for the last few months, since I heard about the dedication.

"Ti' nandeesdzxíís!" My voice is shaky, and I know that I've fumbled the pronunciation. I hope that Emily, the sweet student who answered my classified ad to teach an old man some Navajo, won't be shamed by my nervous mistake. The translation is literally; Let me take you out, but she assured me that the meaning is closer to my intent.

Jacob seems to study me for a few minutes, and then a small smile stretches across his lips.

"I've been waiting for you to ask me that for sixty years," Jacob laughs loudly, and pats me on the back.

"Really?" I ask, though I'm still unsure if he understands what I mean.

"More than you know, Cullen." He smiles at me, and I feel my heart start to race again. "How about we get a cup of coffee?"

"Sounds great." I sound more confident than I feel as I nod.

"I'm parked a few blocks away," he says, pointing down the busy street. "Are you up for a walk?"

"Absolutely," I reply, but something strikes me, and I stop.

"What is it?" Jacob asks, his face looking worried.

"It's just…" I hesitate, for a second. "How did you recognize me?"

Jacob smiles at me, and I feel that same fluttering sensation in my stomach that I had the first time we met.

"I would know you if I were blind," he whispers, taking my arm in his, and he guides me toward the exit.

Author Notes:

The first unit of Navajo Code Talkers formed in early 1942. Many of the recruits were just boys; most had never been away from home before. After the war it was discovered that several of the recruits were as young as 15 and some were as old as 35. Four hundred Navajos served as Code Talkers; thirteen were killed in action.

I strongly encourage you to go to navajocodetalkers(dot)org and learn about their amazing story.

"Our Mother stood for freedom, our religion, our ways of life, and that's why we went in."

Albert Smith, a Navajo Code Talker

The Navajo code word for America translates to "Our Mother."

While the story of the Navajo Code Talkers is very moving and important, I also believe the story of closeted homosexuals in the military is just as important.

Since the inception of our nation, gay men and woman have served and died for America, while cloistering their private lives in secret and lies. They placed their own lives in peril to defend the freedoms and rights that they cannot exercise. In the 17 years that the policy of "Don't ask, don't tell" has been in place, close to 13,000 men and women from every branch of the US military were dishonorably discharged due to charges associated with their sexual orientation.

Whenever you read Slash or Femslash fan fiction, I urge you to think about the reality of being gay in America, which is very ugly and unsexy. For many people all over the world. this is not a sexual kink or a titillating fantasy, it is the way they love and live their lives.

If it makes you feel good, it shouldn't be wrong for them to share in the same freedoms that many of us take for granted.

*steps off of soapbox*

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

Jeanne

Dialogue Translations

"There's a saying, Sa'ah Naaghai Bik'eh Hozhoon," Jacob's voice is so deep and soothing as he speaks in his language.

Sa'ah Naaghai Bik'eh Hozhoon As Jacob says there is no concise way to translate this phrase into English. It however has been loosely translated as; "In Beauty May I Walk", "May I Walk In Beauty", "Walk in Beauty".

"Ayid chxóóh yiik'ih dah sizí," the lovely voice sighs as I turn my head and my lips brush callous hands.

Ayid chxóóh yiik'ih dah sizí = Translation: Ayid is out Meaning: (he's sleeping)!

"'ayóí 'ó'ó'ní shíni'," his words are barely a whisper, and I feel the warm skin beneath my lips tremble.

'ayóí 'ó'ó'ní shíni' = Translation: my mind loves. Meaning: I love you.

"t'áá na'níle'dii bich'i' haasdzíí'!" he gasps, and starts to pull away.

t'áá na'níle'dii bich'i' haasdzíí' = Translation: I spoke foolishly

"Ch'éésh shich'i' nił pop?" He growls, and I shake beneath his touch.

ch'éésh shich'i' nił pop? = Translation: Are you trying to pop toward me? Meaning: Are you trying to seduce me?

"Shaa nídiní'aah," Jacob whispers, leaning his face down to mine and brushing his lips against mine.

shaa nídiní'aah = Translation: take it off for me Meaning: forgive me

"Háágóó nił oohsxał?" his voice is like music washing over me as his strong hands seize my hips, his thumbs lifting the bottom of my shirt.

Háágóó nił oohsxał? = Translation: Where are you rushing off to? Meaning: What is the rush?

"Nizhoni," Jacob's voices is a whispered sigh. His hand starts to move over me, making me gasp as my hips jerk.

nizhoni = Translation: Beautiful

"Shi doo," he says with a sympathetic smile and lowers his mouth over me.

shi doo = Translation: me too

"Shush. Ad jad. Be la sana. Moasi. Ba ah ne di tinin!" Embry's voice crackles through the radio, and I turn to stare at the broken box as fear grips me

Shush. Ad jad. Be la sana. Moasi. Ba ah ne di tinin. = Translation: (This is Navajo code talk. It translates into Jacob's last name.)

shush = Bear = B

ad jad = Leg = L

be la sana = Apple = A

moasi = Cat = C

ba ah ne di tinin = Key = K

"Ti' nandeesdzxíís!" My voice is shaky, and I know that I've fumbled the pronunciation.

"Ti' nandeesdzxíís = Translation: Let me carry you or haul you around Meaning: Let me take you out or I want to date you.

For more information about the Navajo string game and to see what "Ayid" looks like go to: http : // www (dot)k12(dot)ut(dot)us/string_games/significance/nav_phil1(dot)html