Hunter's Moon
"Commander," Guzman entered with a scowl, throwing wrinkles between his eyes. He was trying to wrap his head around what Skye just told him.
Taylor looked at him without speaking, a habit he'd picked up while being inundated with reports and requests during the re-build that was now a week old and progressing slowly.
"Skye was talking to Tasha who was talking to…"
"I don't need the whole begatin list, Guz, the point," he massaged his sore side another newfound subconscious habit, too busy for idle chitchat and what all the kids were up to.
"Uhh, okay. Skye says," he stopped and looked carefully at the Commander who was waiting expectantly. "No Sir, I have to do the begats, won't make sense if I don't." The Commander looked pained, but motioned him to continue. "Skye was talking to Tasha who was talking to Max who was talking to Hunter. Hunter must be on some homemade hooch because he claims Wash got up and walked out of the colony not long after she got sho…." he got nothing further out, mainly because of the iron muscled arm across his throat as he was slammed into the wall. He didn't know the old man could move that fast and the testament of his flipped chair that landed with a thud against the wall proved he was still a force to be dealt with.
"Get me Hunter, now," and with a powerful shove through the door, Guzman hit the rail stumbled and ran. He didn't know the Commander could make that sound, kind of like a strangled cat.
Hunter had confided in Max a few days before after not being able to get the image out of his head. He wasn't close to the Lieutenant, why would he hallucinate her. He told it to Max, hoping his friend could help figure it out. All he got was, "She's hot and you don't want her not parading in her uniform with her tight camo pants and leather jacket throwing orders around making the young men jump to her commands." But to his credit, Max, now dating Tasha, told her a couple days after his talk with Hunter, who remembered a couple days later to mention it to Skye who cornered her roomies and asked if they told anyone else. They said no way; Hunter would be labeled a lunatic.
"I'm telling your dad, Tasha, and see if he thinks there might be something to Hunter's story," she left immediately, but no way would she take what might be a waking dream on Hunter's part to the Commander. She'd heard from Josh how upset he'd gotten and the long uncomfortable ride to the encampment when Wash was killed.
Without knocking, Guzman threw the door to the kid's home open and stalked in. Reynolds and Dunham saw him running through the streets and followed at a distance, curious where the fire was. What they saw was Guzman's iron grip on Hunter's upper arm, escorting him at a brisk pace towards the Command Center. They looked at each other and stayed back, but trailed.
Shannon was in now attendance when Guzman ushered a very scared Hunter up the stairs. He wondered what the kids were up to now that required the Commander's attention. Maybe he could handle it for Taylor. The Commander hadn't acknowledge him when he entered; just rubbed his side like it was bothering him, his face totally devoid of expression as he sat behind his large desk staring at nothing.
"Leave us," Taylor spoke as he watched a squirming Hunter, with his baggy clothes and disheveled hair. Guzman nodded to Shannon to follow him, shutting the door on the way out, leaving a scared young man to face his worse fear, the Commander of Terra Nova.
Standing in the sunshine on the balcony, "What's Hunter done now?" Jim was curious.
"If the Commander wants you informed, he'll tell you," Guzman went silent staring at the market, but Shannon could tell he was a million miles away. Always the fidgeter, he played with the chess pieces while they waited.
"Why were you out after curfew, Hunter?" The Commander was deceptively calm, appearing to be friendly, not like when he visited him in the clinic and threatened to rip his manhood off if he was ever part of steeling another rover for a joy ride.
Hunter opened his mouth a couple times in a dry run, "We knew Skye was part of the resistance and I wanted to help. I got pretty much ignored by the Phoenix and Sixers so figured I might be of use like stealing something or overhearing something important. I mainly wanted to impress Skye. She wants me for a brother and I want her for a girlfriend. She looks right through me and I wanted to change that. When the explosion rocked the colony I went to see what was burning and had exploded. It was my chance to maybe be useful for a change. There were so many hero's doing brave acts, like Boylan pretending to like the Phoenix and gathering info for Lieutenant Washington and Durwin. Max told me not to go, but I figured if I got caught, I could lie my way out of it. I stayed in the shadows and heard a gunshot before I got to the fire. The area had cleared out, but I could see Lieutenant Washington lying on the slab with her arms bound."
The Commander made a strange sound like he was in pain so Hunter stopped. "Continue," his voice was raspy and no longer cajoling.
"Well, like I said, she was laying on the slab not moving. So much for me being a hero. I froze and hid. I figured they'd killed her and heard later that….err….your son shot her. I was in a good hiding spot where I could see and nobody seemed to be looking for anyone so I stayed put and watched her. I think I went into shock, Sir."
Taylor could see Hunter really believed his story by the panicky tone and convincing features while relating and reliving his memories. Pushing his pain down and the burst of adrenalin that made his hands shake, he asked, "You said she walked out of the colony. How?"
"A Phoenix soldier finally approached her and leaned over to check to see if she really died. I never told Max this part. The soldier started playing with her hair, running his fingers through it. He looked around and saw no one was paying him any mind, so he cut her wrist straps and dragged her by her arms in my direction into the shadows. He started kissing her," the Commander's hands tightened on the glass edge of the desk until his knuckles were white. Hunter watched in fascination, waiting for the glass to shatter.
"Keep going," the rage and shallow breathing scared Hunter more than his threatening and shouting ever did.
"He pushed her shirt up and grabbed a breast and squeezed. What happened next was so fast, I'm sure my mind is playing tricks on me, but the corpse came to life and got his knife off his belt when he moved his mouth to her breast. She cut his throat so fast and held his neck at an odd angle causing the spurting blood to shoot away from him and her. It was over so fast. She pulled his armor and jacket off and put them on. Then she took his holster and knife and opened a cargo container and dumped his body in. I think it may have been one of the ones that went to the future or someone would've smelled it by now. Then she was gone. From the time she moved until she disappeared couldn't have taken more than five minutes, if that. I sat in shock for the rest of the night and only snuck home right before light so I wouldn't get caught. I had nightmares, both when I went to bed that morning and the next two nights. I had to tell someone, so told Max."
"What'd Max say?" His tone was lighter, but his eyes bright flames of blue gas.
"You know Max, he's always had a crush on the Lieutenant. He blew it off as me not wanting to see her not strutting around giving orders again."
"Don't you think that kind of talk is a little disrespectful, Hunter?"
"Yes Sir. I never said or thought it, Max did," he blushed at the Commander's raised eyebrows.
"I'm sure you've thought more than you should have about her. Come with me," he stood and they left.
Guzman and Shannon straightened as the men stepped onto the balcony, the Commander unreadable and Hunter nervous not meeting their eyes.
"Need anything, Commander?" Guzman looked Hunter over. He didn't appear to have been beaten within an inch of his life.
The Commander sighed and motioned for them to come and saw Reynolds and Dunham loitering looking like they wanted a piece of the action and waved to them. Hunter led them to the spot he claimed to be hidden. So far no explanation was given by the Commander, Hunter or Guzman, so those in the dark waited to see what Hunter was looking for. He got down on the ground and ran his hands over the dirt while the Commander motioned everyone to stay back.
A gasp broke the silence and Taylor to rush to Hunter's side, leaning over the young man to look at what he was holding. In his hands was dried bloody residue, "I wasn't dreaming. It really happened." With tears in his eyes, he looked up at the Commander, "I didn't believe it, but they say no body, right? Commander, no body was found?
Taylor ordered Dunham, "Run and get a black light." He watched Dunham tear off and put a hand on Hunter's shoulder, "She might still be with us," he helped Hunter up and scooped the bloody dirt from his hand to feel and look, "Thank you, Hunter. Keep this between us; that means this group and no one else including your roommates, got it?"
"Anything to help, Sir," tears trickled down Hunter's cheeks.
Dunham, slightly out of breath, ran up with a portable black light and gave it to the Commander.
"If you remember anything else, Hunter, you come to me directly. Don't matter how un-important you think it is, let me decide. Now I think it's time you told the story you just told me, to these men here."
While Hunter confessed to being the last person to see Washington, Taylor ran the light over the ground and it displayed a pattern consistent with spurting blood and several pints at that.
"I can't keep this a secret from Elizabeth, Taylor, not after what Wash did for us. She may be out their hurt trying to get to your camp."
"Hunter," Taylor turned back to him. "Could you tell how hurt Lieutenant Washington appeared to be?"
"She didn't look injured at all, but it was under partial moonlight that I saw her and didn't know about a stun blast, but she wasn't bleeding and moved like she could still fight just fine." He was amazed that when he spoke, the soldiers including Commander Taylor and Sheriff Shannon hung on his every word.
"Lucas may be injured but in these woods he's truly artful. If they cross paths, she may not have it in her to kill him because he's my son. That'd be really bad for her," Taylor wanted nothing more than to undo the past, but was planning for the immediate future. "We need to find her before Lucas does."
Back in the Commander Center after Taylor once again told Hunter it was very important for him to remain silent for the time being, but assured him in due time he'd get to tell his story.
"You're quiet, hardly said a word since coming home, feel alright?" Elizabeth watched her husband push his food around his plate, his mind not with his family and he hadn't once commented as the kids talked about their day. She got his 'I'm distracted, but don't ask smile', demeanor. "Talk about it?"
He looked at his plate, "Can't." He stood up, "I'm not hungry. I'm going to see Taylor."
She looked at the kids, who were listening all too attentively, "Is it about the Phoenix or Sixers?"
"No," he hoped to make it through the door before she guessed again.
"Is it about Washington?"
Not looking back, he could never keep secrets from her, "Gotta go," and he was gone.
"What'd you think it's about, Mom?" Josh asked for all of the kids.
"If I were to guess, I'd say it has to do with Lieutenant Washington. Maybe they found her body," suddenly she wasn't so hungry either.
"Come on, Wash, why you keeping me alive?" Lucas tugged at his bands weakly. The day before, Washington stumbled onto his hideout and found him unconscious in his rack, well on his way to being emaciated, having no food and little water since the morning Hope Plaza was destroyed. He painfully made his way back to the portal only to find night had fallen and it was abandoned. A quick check of the control box and he knew Malcolm had sabotaged it. Unfortunately he lost his communicator in the scuffle with his father so had no choice but to head to his home of five years, a tarp covered makeshift tent in a tree house. It was closer than the colony and with the wildlife on the move, his bloody trail would be a tempting diversion for them. It was a waxing gibbous moon he noticed as he stumbled along, breath labored with each step. The extra light making his way easier.
"Not my call to make," she held the broth to his lips, hand under his head. Hunger overrode his feign attitude of wishing death.
"I can't figure you out, Washington. So loyal to my father. I bet he's never seen you as a woman, too disciplined for that, Taylor honor," he coughed up some more blood and spit on the floor. "You guys were building the colony fence and you'd be right in there with the men, lifting logs and cutting them to length. By afternoon it was so hot the guys were down to pants and you had that sports bra on. Every guy was looking, but not my father. He was so high minded, he never noticed."
Washington remembered all too well. Coming here she hoped he would put his wife to rest. She secretly hoped he felt something for her above his loyal second. He joked and worked with the men, but her he held aloof, never touching or looking even when she'd take an order for him to sign off on when her midriff was bare and sheened with sweat. He was abrupt and dismissive back then. On more than one occasion she wondered if she did the right thing following him here. Then he'd ask her opinion or suggest they take a drive and check the progress. Those little bones were all she needed to stay one step behind him, his loyal second as reminded again by Lucas.
"That Shannon guy. Didn't take my father long to find a buddy and it wasn't even you," he issued a not so subtle taunt. If she insisted on hanging around, he'd take his anger out on her. "Let's face it, Wash, he'll never love you and ditch you if he could. He was just waiting for the chance to push you aside." Come on Bitch, show some emotion, let me know I'm hitting the mark. "Then you went and got his soldiers killed, how many, twenty-five or six? You going to have a lot of splanin to do, losing the colony to likes of me," he chuckled as a flash of pain she couldn't keep off her face registered with him. "Must have been tough on you all those years, watching the man you love married to another woman, touching her, making love, kissing with passion every time he took his little merry band of soldiers off to war and home again. I hated it when he came back. I was man of the house when he was gone. Ruined my life he did." Lucas stopped talking to catch his dwindling breath. Never once did she utter a word, but he knew if he kept it up, she would never view his father in the same light again and he'd win one more small battle.
Lucas you are more perceptive than you ever let on, probably like your parents. Wash sat in silence, the yellow light of the gas lantern giving a soft glow against the tarps Lucas had stolen over the years for his makeshift home. Everything was well worn and the bedding ragged, but she covered him best she could, herself opting for the Phoenix jacket and armor to ward off the night chill. With Lucas in a weakened state and tied securely to his bed, she would close her eyes soon. Darkness had long descended and the night critters were scratching in the dirt below. A nycoraptor howled for its mate nearby.
Wash ruminated on a thousand different memories, but time had a way of blurring and merging the past. Most recent was still sharp and in some ways very painful, but Lucas had a way of making her want to injure herself, and reflection of recent events drove sharp spikes into her soul. Things changed after the Shannon's arrived. She was forced to look for the traitor with Jim Shannon, throwing them in close proximity for hours every day. It wouldn't have been so bad, but Shannon talked about his wife all the time and his perfect family while she had nothing to offer back, an empty hole of service and duty. She flashed briefly to the flying raptor named after Malcolm. She met Shannon's wife at the gate along with Malcolm when the the men called in saying they were minutes out, but they didn't talk, just waited, one a wife and the other….Taylor's lapdog, tail wagging hoping for a pet. The Commander brushed aside her attempts of comfort in favor of talking to the Shannon's and Malcolm, leaving her on the outside as his back was to her. Then his casual grip of her shoulder in a tug that might have indicated for her to follow, then just as fast, he casually let go and slapped her in a comradely fashion before walking off alone leaving her to clean up his rig, even though she hadn't had any sleep either. Frustration and anger drove her on long after everyone left to sleep. That was the first time she really felt left outside of his loop, and later that day he came looking for her to repair the small incisions like nothing had happened. "You're quiet, Wash," as usual he noticed. "Tired, Sir," she wasn't falling for his faux caring as she was still smarting from earlier. He suggested she turn in and she did, alone as usual.
Wash stood up, not one of her best memories lately and reliving it she felt control slipping and clamped down with her iron will.
Lucas had drifted off and looked so young and innocent in sleep. Wash stepped to the mirror and looked at her bruise. She asked Lucas why he shot her with the lowest setting and he gave a typical kid response, "Didn't check the settings before firing." In some ways he was a child, stopped maturing the day his mother died, she mused. The bruise was healing. She'd had worse. That knock Mira gave her put a knot on her skull, but Dr. Shannon had her back at work the next day, swelling gone and only a few marks to heal on her face. Sitting in the only chair, again she thought on that event.
Taylor charged her with retrieving Leah's pack. A simple task, so she only took Dunham. They were lucky Mira was in a generous mood. In a fair fight they were probably evenly matched, but lying on the ground in a prone position she made an easy target. She came too strung on that crucifixion pole and soon was facing an irate Commander, not to mention her own troops. The Commander ignored her outside a quick glance. It had been a long time since she'd been that embarrassed and angry. Ordering her cut loose, she stalked to the rear and grabbed a pistol from a hapless private too scared to challenge her. To make matters worse, Taylor pulled her OTG privileges until healed. Not like he didn't get to waltz in and out injured or not. He followed her to the clinic, for once not yammering nonstop, just watched Dr. Shannon run an instrument over her head then notice a bruise just above her left breast.
Pulling her tank and bra aside, the doctor ordered, "What made this?" A perfectly round red mark that would be black and blue in a couple of days. Even the Commander leaned over and looked, lips thinning.
"Got shot with a blunt," it was only one of many sore areas and she was grateful for the shot of painkiller the doctor shot her with. Soon the doctor told her, "All done," and left to oversee Dunham.
"Take the rest of the day off, Lieutenant," Nathaniel finally spoke.
"No Sir, this is nothing. I've had worse in the training yard," she downplayed her humiliation, but didn't meet his eyes, keeping hers averted.
"I'm making that an order," he kept his voice down, but she knew that tone, better not argue.
"Permission to go OTG, Sir?"
"Absolutely not," on impulse he pulled her into his arms. Wash knew not to take it as a anything but one friend to another even though her heart screamed for intimacy. "Wash," he murmured into her ear, "I've been through a lot lately," his arms tightened, that was new. "I need to know you're here for me, not facing danger. Let me do that."
"What about me, Nathaniel. You think what happened at outpost three didn't affect me also?" She finally found the courage to confront him directly since shooting him, and held his gaze, "Watching you suffer again, never healing and moving on." She went to break out of his embrace, but he held her tight and she pushed back, "I would like someone for me also. It sucks sleeping alone all the time." This time her efforts were rewarded with him stepping back. Not stopping to thank the doctor she booked for home, but the walls closed in by the time she showered and put on clean clothes so she opted to spend the day alone holed up in the warehouse, inventorying supplies. It was a task reserved as punishment for troops that lived for excitement and action. She was punishing herself; she should have anticipated that Mira would be lurking, and to confess to Taylor she was needy, unacceptable. If he was interested in her, he'd have made a move before now and she wasn't a love-struck teenager like anything over fifteen wandering around the colony. She was expected to control herself and prided herself in that strength of character. Logging out a new holster and gun assembly, she noticed it was dark when she stepped out of the warehouse and she was starving having missed breakfast and lunch. The market was still serving so she took her rumbling stomach to see what looked good.
"Where were you hiding?" Taylor leaned over her shoulder and snagged her fork half way to her mouth and redirected to his.
"Doing penance in the warehouse," she wrestled her fork back. "I forgot to eat today, get your own."
He returned with an identical bowl which was a squash like melon filled with spicy fish and veggies. They ate in silence for a short time. Wash was conscious that the Commander was watching her as he ate. Must be looking at her battered face she figured. Every bite reminded her of the split lip.
"I don't like seeing you like this, Wash. It's my job to take a beating. Yours is to make me look good, cover up my mistakes and stitch me up."
"Permission to speak freely?" She put her fork down and shifted to face him.
"Go ahead."
"For over fifteen years I've followed you into battle and faced every danger by your side since coming here. What's changed that I can't do my job or face danger?"
He looked into his bowl, "I did. Look, Wash this situation with Mira and the Sixers has me preoccupied, but I did think about what you said this morning. If you're willing and life isn't demanding too much of us, I'd like to become more than we are."
"More as in?"
He smiled at her, "More, as in I'd like to kiss that cut and make it better."
"That's it?"
"That's a start. I'm out of practice, but don't want to lose you, Wash. Don't think I could tolerate seeing you with anyone else and always figured we'd have time. I've taken you for granted for way too long. No more, I need you as a woman more than my second." Not breaking eye contact, he declared himself, "Alicia, I'm formally requesting to court you, in my own way of course."
"You have a different way than other men?" She started to smile. The moment was surreal, she was sure he would jump up and rush off with I was only kidding. Her silent internal warning screamed, 'Don't expect too much and the disappointment won't hurt as bad.'
"For now quietly, no announcements or displays in public. Not with the Sixers this close and causing problems. I don't want Mira getting her hands on you again. She gets wind of something between us and your next beating will make today look like a kiddie fight on the playground."
"Nathaniel, you don't have to feel sorry for me. I was out of line this morning and you've never indicated you see me as more than your second. Would it really bother you if I saw someone else?" She wanted to jump into his arms and a younger her would have. The mature Alicia Washington knew how to interrogate and torture.
"Ahhh, yes, I don't know what I'd do if another man touched you in front of me, none has." This wasn't going like he'd rehearsed all day while wandering aimlessly asking if anyone seen Wash. After letting himself in her quarters, it didn't help. On her bed was a discarded bra, black. It'd been a long time since he'd seen women's undergarments strewn about a bedroom and he missed it. The sight fed his need to find her and offer himself like he wanted to do for years. She was right, he never gave her any outward sign, treated her like one of the boys. Maybe she didn't want him that way, how could he woo her, "How about it, take a chance on me?" He actually looked nervous, and a nervous Taylor was not something she'd seen often. If anything, he was always so cocksure of himself.
"Well, Taylor, slow is good, wouldn't want to give you a heart attack," her way of accepting and they exchanged smiles and went back to eating. No fanfare or kiss in public. They could have been discussing business for all the emotion they exhibited. Inside Wash was overwhelmed that he really wanted her.
He walked her home, "Come in late tomorrow, you were supposed to rest today. I ought to write you up for disobedience," he leaned over after she unlocked and opened her door and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth over the cut. Without another word he left.
Lucas was starting to thrash in pain. Wash shook him awake, "Here's a piece of opiroot." He willingly chewed and swallowed not really waking and was out just as fast. Wash turned the light off and stepped out to watch the full moon rise in the east. Resisting the urge to chew a small piece of the opium laced root to ease her aching head, she sat just outside, listening and watching shadows move under the hunter's moon. Settling in against the trunk of the tree on a massive limb her mind wandered on while watching the moon slowly make its orbit across the night sky.
'You were wrong about your father not loving me, Lucas.' Strangely it was Foster getting killed that broke down the Commander's reserves about not touching her inappropriately. The early morning shift found Foster and by noon they had the tags from the nycoraptor and early afternoon a confession. She listened as Taylor ranted against fraternizing of his soldiers with married Terra Novan's, how he wouldn't tolerate it. That night after the funeral, he sought her out as she made rounds, falling in step quietly. He was usually one to make small talk so she let him quietly weigh his thoughts. He was beside her for a reason, maybe second thoughts of a relationship after their trying day.
"We haven't gotten off to a good start in our relationship," he finally voiced his thoughts with a soft emotion filled voice. The moon was rising and they leaned against the main gate, rounds finished. The full moon glowed off the steel poles and bands.
"It's only been three days. My lip is still healing so I'm okay with your neglect," her teasing tone made him smile the first time that day and she could see it in the moonlight.
"I wish there were another way for Milner, Wash."
She went to put her hand on his lower back, hesitated then settled it on his lumbar and massaged gently. He was tense, even on his lower back, "You need a back rub."
"You offering?" He turned out of her range facing her.
"If you want. I've been told I give a killer back rub," she kept her voice down so the guards in the tower couldn't make them out. They knew their superiors were talking below, but that was normal.
"Let me make it up for three days of neglect as you coined the term." He offered his arm and she slipped her hand to his elbow, "First food, then I'm taking you up on your offer, however, I need to know if any of the recipients of your hands live at Terra Nova."
"Jealous?" They made the buffet table where dinners were set out.
"Never," he chose a plate including Gallasourus, and Wash looking around then chose the same. "I, of course, will have to interrogate them in detail, in the brig, after two days of listening to the siren" He sat at an empty table away from the dinner crowd.
"In that case, no," she liked this lighter side of him and that it could come out during his worse day at Terra Nova.
"If I find any man did more than look with his eyes, he'll be in trouble." He talked around a bite, "I need to issue an order, no looking." He smiled at her shake of the head.
"I don't think I've ever worked on so many knots," she heard him groan as her palm pushed into a muscle and twisted.
"Never told me how you came to be so good," he was laying on her bed, shirt off and she was sitting on his ass working on the shoulders first.
"My father. He was a Special Forces officer, Southern Region. Like you, he'd crawl home bone tired. It was just the two of us and I made him a bargain, backrubs for a generous allowance."
"You don't talk about him much. I knew him, tall male version of you."
"When he got killed, I was all alone. The pain of both was too much, so I focused on surviving until old enough to join up," he was starting to relax under her hands.
"What do you want from me for regular backrubs?"
"I'll start with OTG privilege's restored," she slid down and his mid and lower back was hers to loosen and stroke.
"You get the next OTG assignment, I promise, just don't stop."
He stopped talking and after a few minutes she realized she'd put him to sleep just like she used to do for her father. Stripping to her panties, she pulled a clean tank top on after shedding her dirty work clothes. Nestling against his side, she pulled the cover over them. As she drifted off, his warmth was something she could get used to was her final thought.
She woke with warm arms holding her tightly, too tight for someone asleep, "Been awake long?" She asked.
"Several minutes. Why did I wait so long to do this?" His arms squeezed and he dropped a kiss to the top of her head.
"Good question, someday maybe we'll get a chance for you to give me a detailed answer," she slipped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom. He was gone when she returned as she expected. Dawn was breaking and the Commander getting caught leaving the quarters of a woman would fuel the rumor mill for a long time.
That was a good night, but the next was heaven. Curran was banished an hour from the colony. Taylor and Shannon returned after dark radioing her to cut Boylan loose from helping. Wandering around, they found her in the market eating supper. Taylor's gesture of buying for Shannon if he'd join them earned him a glare and Shannon smiled at that, "I think Wash would rather I get lost."
Damn his perception. She had to cover. "Headache, Shannon. While you got to go joy riding, I was stuck babysitting Boylan. I'd glare at anyone right now, sit down, idiot."
Returning with plates, Shannon sat across from her leaving the open spot next to her for Taylor, who promptly stole a pickle off her place and relocated it to his, earning him a half assed slap to the offending hand. They filled her in on Curran. Almost done, her radio sounded, "Guzman to Washington."
"Go ahead."
"Wash can I get you to come by the barracks? Impromptu meeting and a senior officer would help."
"On my way." She cut the link. "I can imagine what this is about," she stood and started to gather her plate.
"I got it, Wash, go do some hand holding. I have some work to do. Check in before turning in."
"Yes, Sir," a nod to Shannon and she left.
"Reynold's asked for Saturday off. I told him, don't get caught," Wash laughed as she sat in the chair across the skull. "He still turns bright red like he used to when he first came."
Taylor threw his plexpad down, done for the night. "That's on my mind also, don't get caught. You realize we've slept together and haven't even kissed. I was hoping for both," He looked anxious, hoping he wasn't moving too fast.
She stood up, "I'm going home and showering. If you want to help, you better be through my door no later than five minutes later." Without looking back, she hurried off, cheeks flushed, glad for the darkness and Shannon having a family to keep him home after dark.
Her hair was washed and conditioned when hands reached around and cupped her breast, and a sharp poke to her buttocks. "Wrong port, soldier," she teased and he answered by spinning her into him, the water from the twelve inch head soaking them both. Hands reaching to stoke his length, he moaned, "Too long," as she picked up the pace. "Wash," his head was thrown back, eyes closed as the water cascaded over his body. "It's been too many years, woman, shit," he spurted over her hand and belly. Head dropping to her shoulder, he reiterated, "Too long, I can do better," his lips nuzzled her neck.
"Oh, you're going to get the chance to prove that statement," she pushed him off and grabbed a handful of soft soap and washed his length, pleased it recovered as fast as it spurted. He took a handful from the dispenser and washed between her legs. Grabbing a washcloth, he ran it over her body, front and back, looking and stopping to touch scars. Kneeling down to wash her legs and feet, he placed a kiss to her mons pubis, tongue probing and finding her center.
"Not here," Wash returned the washing favor and took her turn examining his naked body, running a finger over the scar down his side where her sixty seven stitches closed him up after the slasher attack four years before. Turning off the water they dried each other. "I need to dry my hair," she grabbed her dryer and in a few practiced strokes, the hair was dry. He watched, but didn't touch until she turned the portable devise off and turned to him.
"Is this your version of courting, Sir?" Her hand caught his and pulled him to bed.
"No, this is my nightly fantasy. Has been for years, Wash. I've been wanting to up our relationship and something always got in the way, same as now," he pushed her on the bed and got down to pleasuring her with his mouth. Her cry of ecstasy as she came made him curse his stupidly of waiting so long. One forceful thrust and he started his rhythm, lasting much longer before filling her, collapsing into her neck before rousing a few minutes later, "I'll be right back." He grabbed his pack near his discarded clothing and fished a toothbrush out, "I'm keeping this one here." Lying back beside her, he pulled her into his arms and for the first time they kissed and spent the next hour exploring each other's mouth's until sleep found them. She vaguely heard an 'I love you' as she drifted off, a hum all she could reply with.
Washington slipped back onto the roughly made floor and moved out of the chilly air with its gentle breeze starting up. Lucas was still out so she lay on the floor using a bag Lucas had old clothes in for a pillow, like the night before. Once again, she wondered where Taylor moved his camp to after a long hike turned up an empty camp. She knew the portal was down; Lucas told her that much and also that everyone thought she was dead. She told him how she killed the soldier and escaped.
Lucas informed her, "Those hired thugs are no match for you or any of my father's trained soldiers. When I went back and saw the army they cobbled together, I had to plan the assault for them. I know my father's tactics. My brilliance against his." He laughed, "He let me stab him, Wash. Bought my stupid lie about Mom getting killed being my fault."
She was repulsed he would resort to emotional blackmail. Lying in the dark, she thought how she came to be the nursemaid to Lucas when she wanted to beat him to death for trying to kill the man she loved.
The wild night after the meteor knocked power chips out and Mira came attacking. She'd been ordered to stay at the gate while he and Shannon fought with the Sixers. He avoided her that night and she finally allowed Guzman to relieve her in the early morning hours and went to get a few hours sleep. He'd been in her bed for several nights now and with hope he'd join her, she drifted off. Working on four hours of sleep, she was dressed and operational again. Still no Commander as she accepted a cup of coffee from Guzman and relieved him to go rest after grilling him on the whereabouts of one wayward Commander. Shannon finally wandered in an she asked him. To her surprise, he asked if she looked in the clinic as he took a shot with a crossbow. Pushing him aside, she all but threw her cup on the table as she hurried off. Malcolm waylaid her and she told him to get lost. He fell in step, a litany of complaints against the Commander and Shannon for tearing up his lab. The clinic was missing one Commander and now she was beginning to worry. Telling Malcolm she'd send soldiers to help clean up the mess earned her a retraction and no more army in his lab with the devastation they were capable of.
Letting herself in his quarters, she found him asleep on his bed, still wearing his armor and boots. She wanted to throttle him until he moaned and covered the wound with his hand. Sitting on the bed, she leaned over and kissed him softly. His eyes popped open and when he saw who commandeered his lips, reached his hand to the back of her head holding her in place.
Wash broke the kiss, "Why didn't you come to me and get your wound tended. Had to hear about it from Shannon this morning."
He grinned, "Well that ought to throw him off the track from the other night."
"Not with the way I pushed him out of the way and all but ran off looking for you. He's going to figure it out."
Putting his hand on her waist, he squeezed, "I want to keep you for myself. Our relationship is too new for me to share or take any crap over." He was sweating slightly, causing her to frown and put a hand on his forehead.
"Sit up," she stood and helped him sit. Undoing his armor, she lifted it over his head while he shrugged out of his jacket and she helped pull his T-shirt off, giving a sharp practiced tug hearing him exhale as the blood dried material reopened his injury. She looked closely and probed with gentle fingers, "Be right back." She entered his bathroom and returned with a bottle of disinfectant, which she squirted liberally into the hole, "I won't stitch if you promise to be good all week." He felt a poke and knew it was a pain shot.
"Sounds like a plan. Mira got what she wanted so we may have a break from her. How bout I take Shannon fishing to throw him off sniffing us out?"
Wash smiled and pushed him onto his back. Moving to his boots, she unfastened and tugged them off, "When you planning on going?" Moving back to his chest, she sprayed skin closure over the hole watching it seal shut.
"In a couple days. Make sure we haven't overlooked something vital, "We'll only be gone a couple days, stay out overnight. I'll take him to that spot just south of outpost five, you know, the one I took Lucas to."
"I hope you have better luck with Shannon. Not everyone shares your love of fishing."
"Including you?" The painkiller was taking effect and he felt his limbs relax, not wanting to move.
"I like stabbing or netting. It's boring waiting for something to bite. I like being the aggressor," his eyes closed. Leaning over, she kissed him softly and covered him as he mumbled, "Love you."
Closing his door softly, she turned into Jim Shannon.
"He in their?"
"He's sleeping, Shannon. Whatever you need either run it through me or wait," she walked off in the direction of the Command Center and he fell into step with her.
"I talked with Elizabeth. The Commander didn't report to the clinic. He okay?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing Wash to shoot him a glance.
"Minor puncture, didn't need stitches, but he's promised to take it easy for a week," she started up the steps.
"Shouldn't a doctor examine him? He is the leader after all."
Wash whirled on him as he was following two steps behind, "Where was a doctor when I put sixty seven stitches in his side? She was operating on too little sleep, "Get lost, Shannon. I'm not in the mood for your bullshit," she continued up the stairs while Shannon wisely went home.
'Damn floor, would be softer on the ground. Why am I even bothering with Lucas, should cut his throat and leave.' She felt remorse for the though as soon as it manifested. With a sigh she got up and turned the portable light on and checked the two bullet holes again.
Lucas' eyes opened as she tugged on his shirt. Silently he watched her face as she concentrated on her tasks. 'So this is what it would be like to be in Father's unit with her as a field medic, not bad,' he closed his eyes and for the first time since he was a child, enjoyed a woman fussing over him. "Need water," he resumed looking at her.
Without a word she filled a cup and lifted his head. When he finished, she asked, "More?"
He shook his head no.
"Need to go?"
Again he shook his head. She turned the light off again and resumed her uncomfortable place on the floor as far from his bed as she could get. Even tied, she didn't trust him. The enormous full moon cast shadows throughout the enclosure and her view beautiful as it filtered through the limbs. Made her think of the one time just recently her and Nathaniel slipped away and had a make out session under the full moon. Then she remembered, it was the last full moon. Had it only been a month since the Harvest Festival?
Boylan finally pushed the Commander over the edge. When he got back from fishing, he was on a tear learning of the medicine theft. He took a dozen soldiers and marched down the steps into the bar ordering everyone out shouting the bar was closed telling his boys to tear the place up, while he personally took Boylan to the brig. The battle of wills began and due to an accidental overdosing of Boylan, Shannon found out about Philbrick. She knew, of course, and broke into the Shannon home to plant the frequency receiver her Commander used to trap Shannon. Elizabeth never fully trusted him or her after that. Maybe her sacrifice would convince the doctor they were the good guys. Her husband came to trust that they were ethical as they worked closely looking for the spy.
The Shannon's avoided them during the Harvest Festival party which was fine with her. Taylor circulated, making small talk and she grabbed a plate of food looking around for a quiet place to eat. Sitting on the steps of the Command Center high enough to watch the festivities below, she ate better than normal fare. she supposed she was on call as the Commander was engrossed with the settlers, watching him circulate eating off a plate he carried from group to group. She figured he earned a night off to be one of the folks. Several women took the opportunity to approach and ask if he's dance with them. He politely declined them all. His voice carried to her as he said his job was to visit as many civilians as possible and not monopolize one special person, and besides his Lieutenant was his mandatory dance partner whenever he found her. Sitting in the shadow, Wash made a mental note of the women. He kept looking around and finally spotted her. Jumping up the steps, his lively tone inquired, "Wash, why aren't you mingling. We only have this party once a year, then it's back to the grind." He took her empty plate and pulled her up. Taking her hand, he led her to the dance floor, handing the plate to Reynolds, who hadn't left the Shannon girl's side.
"It's empty," Mark issued a mock complaint to the Commander.
"Sorry Reynolds, mistook you for a waiter," he laughed while Wash smiled and soon found herself in the Commander's arms. The song was a lively one and they two-stepped for several minutes until the tempo changed to a slow number. Instead of stopping, the Commander pulled her close and they swayed slowly in a circle.
"Four women are glaring at you, Sir," his arm around her waist tightened.
"I only want you in my arms." He kept his tone very low and spoke into her ear, "How can we unobtrusively leave?"
Stopping in her tracks, she grabbed her radio and held it to her ear. Nodding for him to follow, she marched away not looking back, with a long purposeful stride. Marching up the steps into the dark Command Center, she turned and stepped into the Commander who was one step behind her. Pulling her close, his lips and tongue claiming hers. He moved to her neck, "No hickeys," brought him back to her mouth. She undid his jacket and he hers.
"My place or yours?" He didn't want to do her in the Command Center, too public.
"Wanna live dangerously?"
He couldn't see her smile, but heard it in her voice. "I'm not doing you on the balcony, Wash," he went back to kissing.
Pushing him back, she was the voice of reason, "If you don't stop, we will find out if that glass is shatter proof."
"Where do you have in mind and make it soon," he grabbed her hand and led it to his swollen groin.
Squeezing his length, "On a blanket on the ground," she took his hand and led him through the Center and out the back way. Their quarters were located just behind the Command Center, his a large house that rarely saw its owner. Wash had a smaller unit for officers. He rushed inside after running his hand over the lock. He returned with a military issue wool blanket. This time he took the lead and hurried them towards the center of the compound. A grassy area was his destination. It bordered the corn fields that were empty and silent. Spreading the blanket, he pulled her down with him. The full moon gave them light to see each other faces. Nathaniel cupped her face, pushing her on her back. Lips once again claiming hers while his hand pulled her shirt from the waistband and helped her pull it off, running a hand over her stomach and up to cup a breast over her bra. He fumbled with the front clasp until it sprang free, releasing her soft mounds instigating a move of his mouth downward. He spent considerable time switching from one to the other. Lifting his head, he made an observation, "Still can't figure which is my favorite." He heard her chuckle and sit up so he could help with the bra.
"Don't misplace it. I don't want to have to come out early and do a search."
"I don't misplace my favorite toys, Wash," he reached for the buckle of her camo fatigues. Unzipping, he slipped his fingers to her moistness, rubbing and feeling her release a warm flood of fluid over his index finger. His pants were straining so she helped him out, literally, stroking his length until he moaned. He grabbed her boots and in a forceful yank to each foot he grabbed the cuff of her pants and they slid off. In the full moonlight he saw she chose a matching black bikini pair of panties. Carefully sliding them down, he laid them on her bra. His T-shirt followed and boots and work pants and underwear. "Wash, this is the first time I ever did this outside." He looked around, "You?"
"I have, in the future." She pulled him back to her, "Not here though, I'm waiting for the right man." She led his hand back to her center.
"Anyone I know?" He rained kisses over her chest above her breast.
"No, it was just before I went into the service, now shut up, you talk too much." He responded by claiming her mouth again as his fingers played in his private playground. He thrust two inside as she cried into his mouth to muffle the sound and came.
Parting her legs, he rammed home. The moon glowed off his bare shoulders and if a person were to pass by, enough light would illuminate the identity of the man and his activities. Wash played with his arms, locked on each side of her, holding him off her as he ground her into the blanket. He could see her face in the moonlight, "You're beautiful, Alicia."
His face was in the shadows, but the light danced across the edge of his shoulders as he thrust. With his telltale grunt she was getting accustomed to, he spilled into her depths and collapsed on her. She ran her hands across his clammy shoulders enjoying the weight. Rolling off, he took her with him until he was on his back and she pressed to his chest. Lifting her head, she memorized his features after lovemaking in the moonlight. "One of your better ideas, Lieutenant," he pulled her in for a kiss.
She got her wish to go OTG faster than anticipated when the surveyors put in a request for a military escort to outpost nine after Reynolds party got ambushed the week before. Supplies were desperately needed and in spite of glaring at her all through the meeting, Taylor chose her to lead the escort. They would be leaving the next morning and much preparation was needed to get everything ready. She was scheduled to be gone ten days.
"Now, Wash, check in every hundred clicks, also morning and night," he carried her pack as military and civilians milled about. Guards on the tower were doubled, two looking out and two in towards the colony. Taking the pack, she tossed it in the back of the rover and got behind the wheel and they shared a last private exchange with their eyes. "Move out," Taylor roared and the gate lifted and the convoy of three rhino's and one rover left.
"Report, Lieutenant," Taylor was waiting by the gate along with Jim Shannon when her group returned home. He didn't waste time with niceties, still pissed a spy was roaming the streets and Shannon hadn't been able to uncover their identity or whereabouts.
"No problems, Sir," she fell into step as the Commander made for the Command Center. "Survey was completed ahead of schedule." She looked sideways at him, "What happened to you?"
"Hmmmmm, run-in with Mira a few days ago." He grinned, "We spent the night together by a cozy fire complete with slashers."
"She played rough, let me see your wrist," she held out her hand and he obligingly allowed her to examine his wrist. He had mentioned he injured his wrist while talking on the radio, just not how he got it, "Why didn't you let the doctor spray it?" He could be so obtuse at times, "You're lucky it didn't get infected."
"Ahhh, Wash, this little scratch, you worry too much." He looked her over, "You look good," she picked up on his double innuendo and released his wrist. Shannon followed listening to them talk, but must have figured being new to the colony that was their normal conversation. Lovemaking after almost two weeks apart was special. Like the night before she left, he held her close all night after wearing each other out.
"I tried to make you jealous with my spending the night with Mira comment. Why didn't you bite?" He stoked her smooth back as her head rested on his chest and she listened to the steady thump of his heart.
"Would a tipped Shannon off. Besides if you wanted Mira, she'd be here instead of me."
"The only thing I admire about her is her fighting skills. I researched her in the eye after the Sixers left and she's a commander of the Sub-Sahara League. We maybe even fought against her in some of our campaigns." He rolled her over and settled on top, lips searching and finding hers again in a passionate lip lock, tongues searching, "Missed you. Don't go for that long again. That's an order, Lieutenant," they suspended talking for several minutes. He broke off from softly chewing on her lower lip, "You're the only woman I want. I can't lose you, Wash."
"I don't know if you noticed, soldier boy, I've waited a long time for you to figure it out," she rolled him off her and straddled his waist, feeling his renewed interest pushing against her.
"Glad you did," he positioned her hips and lowered her once again onto his organ.
Then came the night before the eleventh. It was a hectic day and either the Commander or herself was inspecting something. They barely had time to acknowledge each other all day and time spent together was in a room full of people. She was conscious all day of his peripheral attention to her and she him. Reynolds showed up carrying two plates. "It was noticed in the market, you two haven't eaten since this morning. Mrs. Tate put these plates together for you guys," he stood inside the door, not sure if he was doing the right thing or overstepping protocol by forcing his superiors to eat.
"Thanks, Reynolds, put them on my desk," he went back to looking at the screens with Washington and Guzman, who was just leaving.
"Wash, come eat," Taylor's order rang across the room. With a sigh, she put her plexpad down and joined him, "You know I'm hoping for a normal pilgrimage. I need you here. Outside me, there's nobody I trust with the colonists," he shoved another mouthful in shutting up long enough to chew. "You're quiet, everything alright?" he lowered his voice although they were alone didn't want anyone overhearing their private conversation.
"Getting tired, Sir," she took a small bite not really hungry, but needed food to appease her partner who was watching her closely.
"Let's call it a night. We've gone over everything at least three times. We're as ready as we're going to get."
She nodded. Taking their plates to the market, they walked off together. He followed her into her quarters and shut the door, not caring who may have spotted them. Not tonight.