Three Sheets to the Wind (Chapter 1) (Patreon)

The vast space of the united world military tavern hummed with life and celebration, as officers and commanders alike all along the martial food chain drank to their hearts’ content, fresh off a successful operation.

At the end of the bar sat Delilah, sipping from her umpteenth swimming pool-sized melontini. Giggling to herself, she set the glass flute down on the countertop with a hard slam that gently rattled the wood surface, which coincidentally served as the floor for every other far-smaller military patron crowded around in the establishment. Their own bar, itself shorter than Delilah’s beverage glass on its own, paused briefly to look her way, then shrugged it off, used to the titanic woman’s giddy spirit after she’d downed a few spirits. Plus, no one was going to ask her to settle down, after she’d been so instrumental in the day’s victory. Not to mention, the honey-haired leviathan was a bit of a low-key stunner in her purple civilian wear, her laughter just as infectious as it was thunderous.

Delilah polished off the drink, then set the empty glass under the spigot by the normal-sized bar which dispensed the next round. Existing at such a tremendous size, the girl wasn’t used to feeling the effects of alcohol, but the exultant mood of the evening had led her to indulge more than usual, and for once, the giantess was buzzed. Ordinarily Delilah would’ve been embarrassed at this prospect, but while also riding the high of her vital part in the tactical moves made today, she ignored those worries, and just enjoyed herself. Out of the corner of her eye, resting at the tiny bar less than her arm’s length away, was her direct superior.

“Look who it is!” Delilah said. She slid her white-gloved hand slowly across the bar surface, curling her fingers just behind the little guy’s barstool. “The man of the hour! One of them, anyway. Everybody did a great job today, didn’t they, sir?”

“It was a satisfactory day,” the major agreed, swiveling in his seat to face his utterly humongous subordinate. He smiled, appreciative of Delilah’s contributions, but couldn’t help but be unnerved by her overwhelming presence at such close proximity, especially with her giant glove fidgeting beside him; even when balled up, Delilah’s fist laughably outsized even the burliest of soldiers, making them insects by comparison.

“Oh, is that all you can say, major? We’re off the clock, you know,” Delilah snickered. Her fingers unfurled and clawed provocatively above the man’s head, making him flinch, but she merely used her digits to drum on the floor rather than to touch. “Why don’t you come over here, where I can see you better?”

“All right,” he said, trying to loosen up, even while the enormity of the woman made it impossible to relax. The major liked Delilah, finding her charms endearing, though he also wasn’t used to such casual invitations from subordinates. Her tone of voice was just a bit more commanding than usual, though he supposed that could’ve just been due to her deafening volume.

“C’mon…” she repeated. Delilah steadily withdrew her hand, beckoning him onward with a playfully curling index finger. Using the opposite glove, she reached for her refilled drink and swigged half of it down in one glug. “We make such a good team. It just seems like we ought to get to know each other better. Don’t you agree that would improve morale, Major?”

The man nodded hesitantly, rising from his bench and following after the officer’s encouraging hand. She wasn’t wrong, technically, and he saw no reason why they couldn’t speak normally outside military operations. Still, he felt odd. The closer the major got, the more he noticed the imprecision in Delilah’s movements: slurping, clapping the glass down, smirking lopsidedly. These were just minor tics, but they were noticeable on a body as towering as Delilah’s, especially for someone whose half-hearted finger flicks decimated enemy forces.

Yet her large eyes, hopeful smile, and insistent hand spurred him closer, until he had to crane his neck up to see her prodigious face above. She was a living landscape unto herself, from those shimmering streams of her dark-golden hair falling on either side like cataracts, to her mountainous bust rising and falling softly with every breath beneath her tight clothing.

“That’s more like it!” Delilah cheered. Without registering it, she let her hand slap ecstatically on the surface of the bar, which caused the major to bounce lightly off his feet, though he recovered before she could notice. “Now, I think this will be nice! Unwinding, after such a tough day of solid teamwork. But can I confess something to you, major?”

“Yes.”

“I used to feel just a bit jealous about all the teamwork training exercises I didn’t get to participate in. Especially the combat. Sometimes it makes me wonder if I’m as capable as the rest of the company.”

“I doubt ordinary combat training would be of special use to you, officer,” the major said politely, unable to help shooting his gaze up and down that staggeringly tall torso. Without a lick of martial arts training, the woman was capable of swatting whole battalions like flies. “But I understand how it could make you feel isolated.”

“Thank you, sir,” Delilah sighed, then tapped thoughtfully at her chin, a scheming glint in her eye. She swallowed a hiccup. “Though I still think it could be good for me to learn. Surely there’s value in knowing the language of battle, even if I don’t… participate in the same way?”

The major nodded. Based on the loopy quality of Delilah’s tone, she was indeed a bit drunk, but she was also making some sense. Though he still doubted how much training she needed, due to her ability to subdue even the most threatening of forces with ease, the major also thought it a good idea to treat Delilah as more than just some gargantuan living weapon.

“I suppose you’re correct,” he said. “Some basic defenses and counter-measures could prove assets to you.”

“Would you be my instructor, sir?” Delilah asked imperiously, her eyes wide as flying saucers. She eagerly leaned across the bar, both hands splayed flat on either side of her tiny superior.

Again the major flinched, but kept cool. After a pause, he grunted: “Yes.”

“Wonderful!” Delilah said. She downed more from the glass tanker of libation, snickering and rippling with goose bumps, then lifted her gloved right hand just a few feet over the major. Her fingers twiddled in midair, as though she was selecting candy from a jar. “I can hardly wait to learn from you, sir.”