I do not own the beloved characters of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, nor am I making any money off of this. The re-characterisation of David has come from three distinctive case studies, two of which resulted from post-war combatants (thereby justifying the rating). This is my first Dr. Quinn fan fic, and my first fic in two years so c'est la vie and cheers.

Passion, Obsession

by Minnie V.


The dark, dank cellar was equally as crowded as it was sparse. He couldn't even distinguish the living and the dead. The water – it was like tasting lavatory water; the texture, the putrid smell, how could he even swallow it, let alone keep it down? The dysentery? The haunted sounds of the other inmates. You could always tell who was new – they screamed the loudest, fought the hardest. Those who had been there longer had either given into madness or lost all hope and simply waited until the reaper claimed them with the rest of their cellmates.

Perhaps one would say that the screams lasted all night, but he couldn't distinguish the light of day to give him hope for tomorrow. Instead the screams were a constant soundtrack. There was no hope; there was no future; there was nothing for them but the painful atrocity of a slow death.

Chains dug into his skin as infection festered against the rusting iron. At first, he had fought. He screamed and struggled, provoking the metal to dig into his skin. The blisters, the boils; his fingernails were imbedded along with others in the wall of the jail cell, torn from his fingers as he struggled to breathe, to remember, to live.

The memory; he couldn't lose who he was, who he had been before the war. If he didn't have that, he would not have anything.

Michaela.

While he had associated her with redemption, he began to feel the pangs of jealousy. He noticed how she looked upon the mountain man, a lust and desire that he had never seen in her eyes when she looked upon him during their courtship and engagement.

And she was alone with him, no less! While he was fighting his megrims! She had lain by his side, cradling his head, tending to his every need without someone watching over them. How many other times had she lain by his side?

No! He couldn't think that. His Michaela was pure; she had always remained pure. The night before he left for the war, he had begged entrance to her bed but she had shaken her head; much to his disappointment and frustration.

"No, David. I will wait. I would wait for you forever. But… we can't do this. Not this way; not now."

Surely she had kept her promise. She was a woman of her word.

The dirt that had invested his body, the filth that consumed him for agony; no soap, no cleaning, no bathing had gotten rid of the degradation of Andersonville. The pain he had endured still wept from his pores when he sweat from the terrors that still gripped him when he closed his eyes.

Michaela had been his means of survival; his reason for making it through the hell of war. She was to take away the pain. Make him clean. Take away the filth.

Infatuation. That's all she felt for Sully, while she had been patiently waiting for him to return. Of course, she would be reluctant at first. Honour, name, not wanting to hurt the man who had helped her; but he would take her back to Boston, she would make him clean and he would be with her in the way that nature intended. Sully was just a different taste, a different breed; curiosity had led her to Sully but propriety, honour, duty would bring her back to him.

Standing up in the filthy saloon room, he heard the commotion outside the window. The darkened space hid as much of the daylight as the threadbare curtains could with the assistance of some of his shirts; but fascination brought him to look.

There she was, in eggshell blue. The perfect pearl among so many marred.

She would be his once more.

The noise that followed the processional towards the telegraph office was alight with excitement. The sounds of congratulations and perhaps less than appropriate mentions were heard from the lips of the townspeople that were elated to see Horace and Myra finally take their steps towards marriage. Even Hank had a small grin on his face – small, yet still there. Regardless of the well-to-dos and congratulations that rang out in the street, there was a quiet calm over two people.

The coy half-smile graced her face before the lids of her eyes rose to reveal their dichotomous colour. The cerulean light of his eyes caught the light blush as she turned her attention towards him and without further motion or invitation, he guided her gently to his shoulder and placed a tender kiss to her temple, her blue hat tickling his nose a bit at the gesture. Despite the large crowd that rejoiced beside them, he heard nothing but her breathing, saw nothing but her beauty, and was completely and utterly aware of only her.

"Ma!" the young boy's voice called from the crowd, running towards her. Michaela smiled and lifted him up into her arms, still aware of Sully's hand at the small of her back. "Ma, Miss Grace asked Colleen and me t'help her clean up. Can we?"

"Colleen and I, Brian-" she started, only to receive a confused look from the figure in her arms.

"But Miss Grace didn't ask for your help, Ma. Just Colleen and me. Matthew says he is gonna stay here for a bit, too. Can I, Ma? Please?" His soft eyes looked up at her, pleading for her permission, though Michaela suspected that there would be more eating involved than cleaning in Brian's case. A soft sigh escaped her lips while a beam claimed her face as she pretended to contemplate on her answer.

Looking around, she caught Colleen's excitement as she waved at the already closed door of the couple. There was Matthew, his arm proudly across Ingrid's shoulders as he occasionally pulled her form closer to his. And then she noticed Sully gazing at her; he spoke no words but his eyes said everything. "Well," she began forcing herself to not only break her faze but look upon her son. "I need to take care of a few things at the clinic. If you promise to behave, and keep your suit clean, then…" She let her voice trail off as Colleen joined the group and looked at her in anticipation. "Yes," she set the boy down but did not get up right away. "But make sure to sneak some of the leftovers home, alright?"

"Sure, Ma!" he exclaimed, grabbing his sister's hand and racing back behind the clinic to the café. The smile claimed her lips as she regained her posture, looking up a Sully once more. A blush caught her cheeks, and she felt his body come closer to press a soft kiss to her cheek. "Let's go to the clinic," he murmured, the crowd beginning to dissipate and they walked the short distance to the door in silence.

Her hat was removed upon their entrance, placed upon the table before she reached for a small stack of patient files. Sully chuckled shortly, reaching for her hand and guiding her attention back to him. Her fingertips were brought to his lips and he gently placed a kiss upon each of her fingers, softly and tenderly as he looked into her gaze with the look, The Look, of love, devotion, and desire.

"It was a beautiful ceremony," she began, attempting to ignore his ministrations, though rapidly failing. "Myra looked so happy. As did… Horace…" Her voice faltered a bit and she looked down and away, the glint of blush remaining on her cheeks as he moved closer to her.

"Was it?" He asked, amused by her immediate reaction.

"Of course it was, Sully, you were there-" But he immediately cut her off as he dropped their hands down and pulled her against him, looking into the mismatched eyes that were confused, though no less loving.

"I was too busy lookin' at the maid o'honour," he smiled a cheeky grin. "And thinkin' 'bout anoth'r weddin'… one that's gonna take place next spring." While one hand still held hers, the other moved towards the based of her neck and guided their lips together. Despite the fact the clinic was cooler than outside, they both became aware at the break of perspiration that broke out on their bodies at the touch. He felt her soft lips open to receive his and he darted his tongue inside carefully, hoping it would not be too much for her. Pleasantly surprised, she touched her tongue to his and they became lost in their kiss for several moments, their lips dancing around each others as their tongues gave in to a slowly, but steadily increasing pace. Sully pulled away from the kiss, though he kept his lips close to her face, his breathing slightly faltered. "Thank you, Michaela."

"For what?" she breathed, her eyes still closed from the kiss as she felt the heat of his breath against her cheek. He hadn't kissed her quite like that before, and she was surprised at herself when she wished he hadn't pulled away.

"For sayin' yes," he moved to kiss the sides of her mouth, his eyes opening to gaze at her through a heavy-lidded stare.

A small smile claimed her lips at his touch. "Thank you, Sully."

Cocking his head slightly, he looked at her curiously. "For what?"

Her eyes finally opened and she moved her unclaimed hand to his waist. "For askin' me," she whispered, mimicking his vernacular and moved her lips back to his. The warmth of his lips felt like home, tasted like home, and she became less aware of the fact that Boston would be shocked at that moment and more aware of her increasing desire for him. His hand finally let go of hers as he reached to grasp her waist and pull her into him. A sound of content escaped his throat as he felt her hands wrap around him and her body somehow stepped closer.

When they finally pulled their lips apart, Sully noticed how hers had become slightly swollen and the pink hue that claimed her cheeks in embarrassment had deepened to a blush provoked not strictly by discomfiture. Moving one of his hands to cup her cheek, he guided her reluctant gaze to his. "Hey. Don't go bein' embarrassed." She smiled slightly, but at the fact that he knew her so well; her thoughts engrained with his own. His voice dropped to a concerned and loving whisper, despite their solitude. "Don't hide any part of yourself from me, okay? It's just me. Ain't got nothin' to be ashamed about."

"You are wrong," she said, pursing her lips out and not giving him a chance to interject his opinion. "You are not 'just you'. You're so much more than 'just anybody', Sully."

"You're right," he smiled, moving a small strand of hair out of her eyes and pulling it back to her knot. "I'm yours."

The impact of those words took Michaela by surprise, her eyes widening as she looked upon him with a hint of uncertainty woven into her love and devotion. "I… I hadn't thought of it like that…"

"But it's true." His hand guided one of hers to his heart and she felt the steady beating of it against her palm, as if it was one of the drums used in the Indian ceremonies. "My heart… it's yours, now, Michaela." He watched in curiosity as these words overtook her, each step of the comprehension apparent in her eyes though he suspected few would read it as he could.

He felt her pull gently on his hand and watched her curiously as she smiled. Guiding it to her own chest, he felt the lace of her fabric and the warmth of her chest against his hand. Not daring to breathe at her movement, he felt her own heartbeat against the back of his palm, a steady beat that increased slightly at the touch, in time with his own. "I am yours, Sully," she said softly, the love thick on each word as her eyes misted just enough to make them glitter all the more. "And my heart? It is yours. It has been for such a long time…"

Their hands still between them, he moved to caress her lips with his own, bidding his hunger to stay down and not aware of the fact that she was doing the same. He wanted all of her, everything of her; he wanted her to possess him. She wanted freedom, the freedom that she felt in his touch, and his kiss; the kiss that made her feel as if she wasn't her own person anymore.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted both of them, a gasp escaping from each of her lips. Michaela's hands immediately leapt up to straighten her hair, fearing it to be disarrayed, and Sully attempted to straighten his jacket. "Ya look fine," he whispered to her, amused that she looked torn as to whether or not to put her hat on before shaking it off and purposely stepping in front of him. She didn't notice that he took half a step to be closer to her until after she called out, "Come in!"

Wishing that she could have slapped him for his impish nature just then, Michaela's eyes opened as she saw Andrew enter the clinic. "Good afternoon, Mr. Strauss. How are you? We didn't see you at the wedding. You should have joined us…" Sully attempted not to be amused at her as she tried to fight her embarrassment. He noticed the signs – the flushed cheeks, the blatant ignoring of his presence despite the fact she was aware of his every breath, her words rushed just slightly as if to distract the listener from what they could see written upon her face.

Smiling softly, David looked at the couple stoically. Though he could only think of what they had been doing, he knew that it could not have been too inappropriate. After all, his Michaela? No. She was chaste, beautiful, and pure; she was more than likely embarrassed over the fact that she was alone with Sully. He would not let his imagination grant him insight to the truth. "I apologise for troubling you." The good natured smile was forced as he attempted not to gaze upon her too obviously. Luckily for him, Sully was too amused with Michaela to take proper note of anything out of the ordinary. "The sound of the celebrating crowd is what brought me out of my room. I was going to thank you for your hospitality, but I must go to Denver."

"Denver? For how long?" Sully looked at him curiously. "What about your book?"

"I was called away for some associates. I do want to do some more research for my book, but…" His voice trailed off. If he was going to go ahead with his plan, he needed to be away.

"There was a nest of blue heron that I wanted to show you," Sully tilted his chin towards the door, as if indicating the direction of where they would be going. "It'd be good for your book. If your business in Denver ain't long term, you could come back after it's done. I'd like to show it to ya."

Looking at the mountain man, though aware of the small smile that had crept over Michaela's lips at the suggestion, David considered. The calculating mind was not betrayed by his unmoving facial expression, attempting to formulate the timetables of his plan and work through everything. He had to see Michaela without her knowing. He had to have them think he was gone. But if he came back? That would help remedy the poorly construed plan he had been intent upon using. A far better opportunity.

His lips parted and he sighed as though he was in difficult thought. "I will try to be back in a week. But I'm holding you to your promise, Sully." He moved to shake Sully's hand before reaching for Michaela's and bringing it softly to his lips. He did not notice Sully's penetrating stare, nor did he realise what he had done until after the latch had caught the clinic door and he was making his way across the street towards the saloon once more.

Before Sully could comment or recover from the pang of jealousy and protective nature, he heard Michaela giggle softly. "Do you like embarrassing me?" she asked, her tone playful as she pressed her lips together. Shaken from the uneasy feeling, Sully smiled at her before turning towards her exam table. Lifting himself up, he opened his arms to her.

"C'mere," he smiled, placing his arms upon her shoulders as he widened his legs enough for her to step in a little between them. Catching her chin, he kissed her sweetly before pulling back and smiling at her. "I think it's kinda sweet when you're all… flustered." That cheeky grin claimed his lips once more and he watched as she struggled to pout or glare or have some other facial expression that the embarrassed smile. Running his fingers along her cheek, he sighed. "Michaela, I gotta go an' check my traps. If I leave tomorrow… I should be back in a couple of days. Five at the most, and that's only if we get some bad weather." He noticed the almost-flinch that she tried to hide. "Hey… I don't wanna leave…" It was true, too.

"But Sully…" she sighed, her hands catching both of his and holding them so that his forearms rested upon his thighs. "What about your megrim? What if it acts up while you're away? I won't be able to find you…"

He brought their hands up to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. "The megrim is gone, Michaela. There hasn't been any pain since the sweat lodge. I'll be careful, don't worry. And I'll come back as soon as I can."

"Do you promise?" she whispered, looking at their hands.

"Yeah. I promise." He moved her closer to him, dipping his head down.

Before he could pull her into a kiss, however, Brian burst into the room. "Ma! I brought leftovers!"