Third in a series. This part will make more sense if the following are read first:

Changes and Making Changes in that order.

Final Changes

"Lift your chin. Why do I have to tell you every morning? You can go back to shaving yourself," Wash set the razor on the vanity and went to step back from between his legs. His arms whipped out, catching her by the ass and pulling her into his face, kissing his baby still cocooned in its mother. The rounded protrusion was interfering with the acrobatic moves she incorporated for his morning shave. Usually her legs were on the outside while he sat and she would settle onto his thighs, allowing him wide open access to his playground. He would lift his chin and while she methodically removed his neck hair. Not one to sit idly, he kept himself entertained playing with her core, running the pad of his thumb over her center while inserting fingers until he achieved his goal to hear her moan and twist while she worked. Lighting her morning fire, he would take her back to bed and finish her off with either tongue or hand, then slip between her ready folds for his explosive finality. Their morning ritual since before they married, and he was not giving up his favorite part of the day.

Smiling up at her, he suggested, "Would it help if I stand?"

"Maybe."

Hands on her waist, he pushed her back and rose in the same motion, then pulled her back against his stomach. Lifting his chin, his wife once again ran the lasar bladed razor along the contours of his neck. "Better, we'll do it this way from now on until I can bend again," she accepted his kiss of thanks. Alicia loved shaving him, the perfect intimacy to start their day, and to her satisfaction, he waited and took her back to bed. "Glad to see I'm not neglected." Soon her resonances of ohhh, don't stop, ooohhhh, Nathaniel, oooohhhhh aawww, and she came, a repeat of every morning for months. Her pregnancy adding hormones so just a few strokes and it was over. His quick penetration around her convulsing walls milked him almost as fast. Not able to collapse on top of her any more, his head hit the pillow next to hers.

"I love these extra hormones, even if they make me act like a simpering female," she enjoyed his hand stroking her belly as he did every morning as if memorizing her ever changing shape. The smell of coffee from the automatic machine drifted to their noses. The first three months it had been turned off until after Alicia had eaten. The usually wonderful aroma made her rush to the toilet until she begged Nathaniel to make it stop.

"Our cue to stop foolin around." he leaned over and kissed her belly and greeted, "Mornin baby," and made for the shower.

Monday's were Wash's scheduled weekly checkup and her husband would escort her to the clinic, smooch her cheek and continue to work.

"How's the house coming?" Small talk dominated while Dr. Shannon scanned her from head to toe on the biobed, paying close attention to her expanding uterus and its ever present scar tissue.

"Nathaniel promises it'll be done by the time the baby comes, but I have my doubts. We don't need that large of place. I'm going to make him clean it." They both chuckled at the thought of their men cleaning a house.

When the officer's quarters were built for Taylor seven years prior, he ordered one bedroom, now an expansion and total renovation was underway. They had moved back to her place, even smaller than his with all their clutter stacked in military boxes. Since it was temporary, they opted not to unpack except for essentials. That left them digging through boxes more than once and, "I'll find it later," the most common outcome.

"I still think four bedrooms are too much. We're going to be lucky to have this one. How's it doing?"

"IT is fine," Dr. Shannon smiled. Neither parent wanted to know the sex. They were having more fun guessing and teasing each other. She was sure of one thing, this baby would be well loved and by the entire community. Never had a citizen been more closely watched and cheered for.

Wash, as everyone still called her couldn't so much as lift an orange without her soldiers stiffening. Even Jim was over protective. He teased her unmercifully about her shape, but escorted her up and down the steps whenever her husband was absent. She slipped and fell on the stairs once, and Taylor put out an order, any soldier or man with her needed to be vigilant and close enough to catch her should the steps trip her up again. That caused a huge fight outside the market place and Boylan was calling for bets over their shouts.

"You are officially entering your third trimester. If anything is going wrong, it will happen soon. How is the stretching around the scar feel?"

"I can feel it. Not much pain yet, just tightness. How much more do you think I can stretch?"

"Don't know. We're winging this kid. The next one we'll be a better judge of."

"Next? Let's get through this one first," Taylor entered unseen and commented, causing the women's heads to turn in his direction.

"I thought you had to go OTG for a couple hours, what happened?" Wash reached for his hand and he helped her sit up.

"Shannon went in my place. I remembered you were entering the final stage. Why didn't you remind me?" He focused on her, ignoring Dr. Shannon. They were developing the ability to tune everything and everyone out around them when in discussion. Jim had to actually slap Taylor on the arm or back to get his attention when those two zoned the world out.

"I didn't tell you because I feel the same as last week."

Elizabeth spoke, "You're done here, Wash. You know the drill. Anything, and I mean anything, I want you back here, got it?" She almost laughed when both Taylor's nodded together, "Get her out of here, Commander, so I can get back to real patients."

Escorting his wife to the Command Center, he asked, "What are you doing today, and I mean before and after your nap?" He offered his arm as they ascended the stairs.

I have to pick colors for the house, unless you want to help?" She automatically placed a hand on her stomach, not realizing her husband and everyone within sight stopped what they were doing and watched, looking for signs of distress.

"You okay?" Taylor stopped her near the top of the stairs.

"I'm fine, the baby kicked. He wants out," she smiled at her husband.

"She can stay put for three more months," he continued his escort duty. "What color are you picking for the nursery?" His hand automatically resting on the small of her back as he walked her across the room and helped her sit before rounding the desk to his chair.

"I'm leaning towards cream. We can add trim later."

He nodded, "Like it, how about the rest of the house?"

"I'm not sure, anything you like?" She felt a twinge, must be the longer walk from her place.

"I don't like red or pink."

"How about we keep the original color scheme going then?"

He nodded again, pleased with her choices, "What else are you doing?"

"Food, We're low on a few things," another minor cramp around the scar tissue.

"No carrying bags."

"I know I'll find someone to help. Maybe Shannon will be back if you're busy. What are you doing to fill the time?"

"My job, your job, the usual," he grinned and chuckled at her shaking a finger.

"I can still do my new job. Have Shannon download his findings to my plexpad and I'll look at it while lying down this afternoon."

Malcolm entered, "Good, you're here, Wash. I don't have to track you down. I have a list of problems coming into me and need you to help prioritize." He grabbed a chair and brought it to the desk, sitting close to her so they could look at the same data.

Taylor listened in as they discussed the needs of various departments. The entire colony had been segregated into sections under Malcolm and Wash, with Jim being the third in their handpicked group. Malcolm was head of anything scientific and mechanical. Wash took care of labor, private businesses and medical acquisitions and Jim the new budding industrial complex. Taylor was overall boss.

"I think we have the list of materials needed, just need to find some of them." Malcolm recommended Jim Shannon to head OTG acquisitions and he was doing a good job with the help of various scientists.

Wash looked at her watch, "I have a meeting with Sanderson in a few minutes." She struggled to stand. Malcolm gave her a hand up before her husband could get around the desk. Another twinge caused her to place a hand over the spot.

"Are you alright?" Malcolm, along with their close friends and most of the soldiers knew of her scaring issues. Malcolm had been consulted to find a way to make the tissue more flexible with the ever expanding uses in the local flora. So far his experiments hadn't worked, but he kept trying.

Nathaniel placed his larger hand over hers and wrapped a supportive arm around her back. His concerned look told her just how worried he was.

She smiled at both men's overprotective stance. Malcolm still had a hand on her arm. "I'm fine. I'm sure normal women have similar pains."

"You're not normal. We're going back to Dr. Shannon, her orders," he brooked no argument as that stubborn expression told him she was gearing up to refuse.

"You're overreacting," but it came with a frown and Wash slipped her hand from under his and placed it underneath her maternity top directly over the stretching scar. Both men looked ready to pass out. "The scar is stretching, I can feel it. I just entered the third trimester and was hoping for a longer reprieve before the constant reminder I was shot and opened with a can opener by the military hospital."

Reilly broke through the door hollering into her comm, "Say again, Shannon?"

A broken signal, "ot aat xxers, hit …ate," and the signal quit.

"What's going on, Reilly?" Taylor barked at her lousy timing.

"Shannon encountered something and is heading back fast." She took in Taylor's arm around his wife, "You okay, Wash?" Her concerned question and look brought the men's focus back on her.

"Malcolm would you take Wash to the clinic?" With a kiss to her temple, he was gone, Reilly on his heels.

Wash sighed, "Used to be me running after him."

"You will again. Come on, to Elizabeth you go," his offer of elbow ignored.

"I'm fine Malcolm and I really have to check on the house." At his nervous look, she cajoled, "If I don't make the bottom of the stairs, we'll go see the doctor and I trust you to catch me." Without waiting for him, she strode out as fast as her pregnant body would allow, causing Malcolm to close his mouth and hurry before she was caught descending with him in tow instead of by her side.

Reaching the bottom without incident; across the yard they heard Taylor yell for the gate to be raised, and paused to watch as Shannon's rover scream through and slide to a stop in front of the clinic. Jim jumped out, bloody and ignoring his own minor wounds and reached the passenger door the same time the Commander did. The scientist who accompanied Jim was pulled out and carried into the clinic between the two men.

Malcolm uttered the man's name and turned to Wash, "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Malcolm. Go," she pushed him in that direction and with a last scrutiny to her person, he booked for the clinic.

Walking with a constant low level pain that just wouldn't leave, Wash hurried to her home under renovation. The contractor was waiting on her, looking peeved. Her husband would update her on the situation later. She was amazed at herself. Not so long ago, she would have been in the middle of the action, silently standing by Taylor waiting to carry out his orders. Slowly her position was changing. He kept her informed of every detail of his day and asked her opinion on everything, but didn't order her anymore, just like he promised. He listened to her advice and many times, she heard him give her suggestion as an order. He made her feel like a wife and partner. She wasn't sure he could make the transition, but he did even better than her.

"Sorry I'm late," she entered her new under construction home into the living area. Taylor had chosen the nicest spot for his place when they established the colony. It had plenty of privacy with its mature trees. He had added a privacy fence after their marriage. Now they would live in the largest house in the colony. She knew he was doing it for her new position as wife of the Commander.

Sanderson laughed, "You're wife of the Commander. You can do what you want. You want to keep me waiting, who am I to argue."

Not sure how to take his comment, she explained, "It was a busy morning. I'm here now and won't take much of your time. I know the colors and where they need to go." She hoped her professional attitude would move things along as her child was making her hungry again.

"The Commander ordered all new kitchen appliances and bathroom fixtures for the existing bathroom. You are going to be the only home with two bathrooms and two solar heaters. I have four kids now and it's hard with just one of each. How do I go about becoming Commander?" He wasn't serious, just didn't like these people obviously putting on airs.

Her husband had dealt with the contractor most of the time and she was sure he didn't put up with any crap. "Well, Mr. Sanderson, you need to go to the future and get shot at for twenty five years, win every metal the military can think up and have a genius for a son who can build portals. If you can't do that, maybe we should discuss something you might be good at, let's pretend it might be paint."

"Well I think Taylor is putting himself up as some sort of king and you're his queen, better than us peasants, that's what I think." He didn't know this 'Wash' well, having come in on the tenth, but either she was loved or hated. Most women who had designs on the Commander hated her and men who thought they might stand a chance with her, were now angry when she was seen hanging all over the Commander months before.

"Excuse me. Is this a bad time?" Reynolds had seen Wash hurrying and followed. He saw her holding a hand on the scar area and looking pained. With the Commander and Mr. Shannon and Malcolm in the clinic, he took it upon himself to follow and he was glad he did. Right now, he would like to belt the ass who dared talk that way to his commanding officer and friend that way.

Sanderson got down to business as Wash went from room to room and instructed the paint to be used. Reynolds followed quietly and every time the contractor looked in his direction, he found the young man staring at him. He wanted to make more acerbic comments, but held his tongue.

Reynolds walked Wash to the market. She was feeling lightheaded. "I need to sit down, Mark. Could you get me an orange, please," she reached out and gripped his arm to steady herself.

Leading her to a chair and helping her sit, he hurried back, handing her the fruit as his comm squawked, "Reilly to Reynolds."

"Reynolds here."

"We need you in the Command Center ASAP."

Wash overheard and waived him off without a word. Throwing her a smile, he ran off.

Reynolds entered a crowded room. Taylor and a bruised Shannon were at the head of the room. Seeing Reynolds enter, Taylor began, "The Sixers attacked Shannon and Meyers. Shannon was grazed, but Meyers took a bullet to the lungs. He's in surgery and is expected to live." He motioned to Shannon, "Tell us what happened?"

"We were looking for certain trees and plants. We got ambushed in a thicket. I fought with a couple and when they pulled pistols, we ran due to being outnumbered. Meyers went down with a bullet. I grabbed him and got to the rover. They must have been after something in the area or that thicket. I didn't realize at the time, but my comm took a bullet meant for me."

"I want a patrol to investigate. Shannon said he counted about six men. Mira wasn't seen, but that doesn't mean she wasn't in the area. I want to know what they were after. Look for evidence. Guzman, take a platoon, dismissed," the room started to empty.

Reynolds started to leave with the rest and hoped to be part of the mission. "Reynolds," he turned back to the Commander, who called him.

"Sir?" he moved to the desk. Shannon was still present.

"Where were you? The meeting was called in time for you to not hold us up." Taylor looked directly at him, waiting his answer.

"I was on my way when I saw Wash, err, Lt. Washing,,uhhh, sorry Lt. Commander Taylor," he saw a ghost of a smile flash across the Commander's face, but wasn't sure. "She was in a hurry and nobody was with her and I didn't like the way she was moving, Sir." He stopped for the Commander to take in what he said. He glanced at Shannon who looked concerned also.

"Continue Reynolds, what didn't you like?" Taylor kept his voice neutral, masking his fear.

"She was holding her stomach, Sir. I followed not knowing where she was heading. I'm glad I did," he stopped not sure if he should get involved or in front of Shannon.

The Commander raised his eyebrows and with a look to Shannon, asked, "You done? You're glad you followed, but aren't going to tell me why?"

He looked at Shannon again and back to Taylor, "I'm not sure I should speak in front of civilians, Sir."

"Oh, you mean Shannon here," he looked at his newest friend. "I think it's safe. He won't do more than tease and ridicule my wife if he finds it appropriate, continue."

"It's nothing like that, Sir. Let's just say if someone talked like that to Maddy, he'd be in the clinic facing her mother."

That got both men's undivided attention as Mark continued, "Sanderson was saying inappropriate things to Wash and she couldn't do anything about it, being pregnant and all."

"What did he say to my wife?" Taylor's tone was deceptively neutral, while Shannon crossed his arms.

He told her she was the Commander's wife so she could do anything she wants; then he made a comment about two bathrooms for the two of you and new appliances. He indicated she was better than everyone else. Like I said, Wash just stood and took it , but I could tell she was upset and he asked how to become the Commander so he could have a house like hers," Mark was upset having to remember it again, "I stayed with her so he would shut up, which he did."

"Where's Wash now?" He hoped Reynolds didn't leave her with Sanderson.

"I took her to the market. She wasn't feeling well, but I got called here, Sir."

"You did right in telling me, Sargent," he nodded his dismissal.

With a final glance at Shannon, Mark left.

Taylor sat behind his desk, arm on the rest running his right index finger across his lips, in an up and down motion, a habit he wasn't aware of doing while deep in thought. Jim watched him, waiting for him to decide on how to handle Sanderson. Whatever the Commander wanted to do, he wanted to be part of.

Finally, he spoke, "I need to find Wash, Wanna come?"

"Let's go"

Not finding her in the market where Reynolds left her, Taylor asked the one person who knew everything that went on in the market, Casey Durwin, "Casey, see which way Wash went?"

"Back the way her and Reynolds came from. She didn't look good, Commander, is everything okay?"

"That's why we're looking for her, thanks Casey." With a foreboding feeling, both men hurried towards the Commander's home.

Entering the work zone, they found the object of their search having another round with the contractor. She had forgotten to choose the exterior paint and after eating her orange, felt stronger.

They overheard, "Where's your pretty boy? How can a little woman chose a color without one of her soldier boys grabbing her ass."

"How did you ever get here, Sanderson?" she couldn't believe he had skills to earn a spot on the roster.

"Lottery."

"Figures, we should never have allowed it," she was getting stressed again and just wanted it over.

"It's common knowledge you did the Commander to earn your spot, so don't get so high and mighty with me."

Wash started rubbing the back of her neck a sign Taylor knew was high stress for her. He shared a glance at a very pissed Shannon. Together they stalked up to Sanderson. Wash's back was to them and she felt their heat before registering the look on Sanderson's expression. Her husband stopped when he touched his wife's back and Jim stopped on her other side.

Nobody spoke. Shannon was taking his cue from the Commander, and Nathaniel slipped his hand to her shoulder; a welcoming warmth.

"Commander," Sanderson spoke to break the awkward silence.

"I believe you were addressing my wife, please continue," he stared down the contractor.

Looking at her and trying to forget the presence of the men obviously protecting her, he changed his tune, "To what do I owe the pleasure, Mrs. Taylor?"

"The pleasure? Okay, the pleasure. You're fired," she felt an encouraging squeeze to her shoulder.

He looked for confirmation at the Commander and got a blank look back.