This one is for Yul at Gatchamania, a gift for her helping me out with an avatar problem I had...
Disclaimer: I don't own them, okay? I still have designs on snapping up the rights one of these days, but I need a hell of a payraise if I am to do that...
DEAR DIARY
"I had that dream again last night. You know, the one where he comes to my room and tells me how much he loves me. Not with words, though. He does it with his body.
As always it was as passionate as I could possibly imagine him to be. While I have never felt his love or know just how passionate he can be. I can call on the sheer intensity of his Command to imagine what he would be like if he took me to his bed.
It's getting so hard to remain professional with him these days. I can barely look at him anymore without biting my lip and wondering just how he would be.
Dear God. I call on you to tell me why I am not good enough for him. Why he is so immune to me. Why, when I have tried so hard to be who he wants me to be, has he still hasn't taken me in his arms and kissed me … loved me … done anything beyond smile warmly at me after I've reawakened from unconsciousness after the Fiery Phoenix?
Surely he needs release from time to time. I know he doesn't have a true existence outside of G-Force. I know he doesn't have a girl on the side to massage out his aches and pains, and release his body of tension with a night of lovemaking.
Not like *I* would.
I would please him every night if he wanted me to.
I am not sure if he's ever really had a woman. He's had dates here and there, but I recall he was called in to duty every time. I thank Zark for that. I thank him for preventing another girl from taking him away from me … preventing the loss of my fantasies.
Because fantasies are only pleasurable if there is a slim chance it may happen.
If he had a love, I'd have nothing.
I know, that's very selfish of me. But I am entitled to it. I've sacrificed everything in my life and been more than selfless in everything. It is about time I acted in that truly feminine way and damn any other woman to Hell who even looks sideways at the man I love.
And I love him.
Oh God, I love him.
I would give my very soul to feel his lips against mine … To hear him tell me he loves me … To know that he feels for me everything I feel for him.
Mark, tell me what to do…please."
Keyop extended the last word in a truly effeminate manner, then broke off into a laugh. "Oh, Markey-Warkey, kiss me you big sexy hunk of burning love."
Tiny shuffled uncomfortably in his chair, the half-eaten Space burger still hovering in the very same position it was in when Keyop began to read Princess Diary entry.
Jason smirked and snorted at the recital. Although he didn't necessarily agree with the kid sharing the contents, morbid fascination and the chance to know what made the girl tick was simply too great for him to tell Keyop to stop.
Hearing the depths of her emotions for Mark was both discomforting and fascinating. He knew she had a crush on him, but never knew emotions ran this deep.
The problem he seemed to be facing right now was trying to see exactly what a woman could possibly see in the man … Mark was a wuss.
"Here's another one." Keyop snorted with a laugh as he flicked the pages of the leather-covered journal.
.
"Mark was flirting with me again today.
He tried to play a dangerous game of trying to tickle me when I pulled the bike in to the compound.
His car broke down on the highway, and he paged me to see if I could pick him up and get him to Centre Neptune. Apparently he doesn't like our tow-truck driver, and didn't want to have to make small talk in his truck.
I didn't mind. Hell, I get to travel to the base with his arms around me. Did you think I'd say no?
Gosh, his touch is like electricity. I can feel him from my head to my feet. It's like prickly gooseflesh that sends jolts of painful static through the most sensitive areas of my body.
I won't elaborate. I am sure I know what I'm talking about. wink
He spoke into my ear, along the way, about the new missile they're giving to Jason later this year. He told me that Jase would orgasm over the new technology and range of them.
I blushed, he laughed.
He must think I am such a juvenile.
But I recovered with a quick tease about boys and their toys … I can't recall exactly what … and he retaliated by putting his hands under my shirt and tickled my ribs.
Gosh, I was doing nearly 150. I could have killed us … No he could have killed us. I had to skid sideways to stop us hitting the wall head on.
He just winked, dismounted the bike and did that cheeky finger-gun thing at me when he left.
Crazy bastard.
Gosh, though. I was so turned on."
"Keyop. Kiddo, that's enough." Tiny squeaked, his burger still hovering at his mouth. "These are Princess' personal thoughts."
"Which is what makes them so cool." Keyop responded, flicking through more pages. "It's so funny." He suddenly got an excited look and pursed his lips. "Hey, maybe I can list this on eBay and make some money."
"No, Key. Come on."
Jason seemed to be somewhat stunned. Something had intrigued him immensely. "A new missile?"
Keyop pursed his lips and nodded, still flicking. "Yeah, that what it says."
"Does she say anything else about it?"
Keyop raised a brow. "This whole thing has been about how lovey-dovey she feels about Mark, and all you get out of it is a missile?"
Jason rose from the chair and quickly pounced on the youngster. "Give me that book right now or I tell Princess you have it."
Keyop spun much like a torpedo underneath Jason and snaked himself out. "Hang on, hang on. Let me look."
Jason settled himself into a slouch on the floor up against the front of the couch. He raised a knee to lean his forearm atop it and flicked his fingers at Keyop. "Then go on. Find something."
Keyop nodded and flicked through. He, and the other occupants of the room were oblivious to the quietly stunned presence of Mark in the doorway.
"Oh, wow. Check this entry out," Keyop purred.
"Oh Diary, I am so lost. Tell me how to push myself through this.
Mark has a new admirer and this one is a girl I don't think I could possibly compete with. She's so beautiful. Worse is that he seems to find himself attracted to her, too.
He was sent on a mission to protect a prominent scientist here at Neptune. He had a daughter who was abducted by Spectra. He rescued her, and now she seems to have fallen for him.
This is like my worst nightmare coming true.
Zoltar come take me. Throw me to your men and torture me until I die. That fate is so much more appealing than the thought of Mark being in the arms of another woman. She could never love him like I do.
Why can't he see me? Why can't he feel what I feel? Why do other woman have to exist on this planet? Why can't I be the only one, so Mark would finally see me?
I'm going to go and eat an entire bowl of strawberry and chocolate ice cream. No, not just a bowl, but the whole damn tub!
I'm so upset – I want to curl up and die."
"Woah," Jason breathed. "That must be about that Amanda girl that set her sights on him a little while ago."
Keyop's brows rose, but his eyes didn't as he flicked through the pages to find something else to read. "I didn't know about that."
Jason thumbed at his nose and inhaled a loud wet snort through a partially blocked nose. "She was a hottie."
Tiny finally took a bite of his burger and didn't bother wiping the grease from his lips as he chewed. "Did Mark end up dating her?"
Jason groaned at the sound of words trying to creep their way through the mangled masticated mess in Tiny's mouth. "Gross, man. Swallow before you talk."
He swallowed loudly. "Well, did he?"
Jason shook his head. "He thought about it, but didn't because he thought it was inappropriate."
Keyop licked his lips and kept his focus on the pink pages of the diary. "Because he's lovey lovey with Princess…"
Tiny screwed up the burger wrapper into a little ball and eyed it longingly as though he willed it to produce another for him. "I agree with Keyop on that one. I always thought he and Princess were already dating."
Jason shook his head. "Nah. Not that I'm aware of."
Tiny chuckled. "Are you sure about that?"
Jason flicked his hand at the diary. "What does the rest of it say, Keyop? Does it mention anything about those two getting all…?" He smirked, "lovey dovey?"
Keyop thumbed through to the last entry – about half way through the book. "Let's see." He grinned. "This one's from last month."
"Sweet seventeen and finally kissed!
Oh sweet Diary. It was wonderful, really wonderful. Mark is as perfect a kisser as I could have imagined. He was gentle. He was so tender. He was caring. He whispered my name and told me I was beautiful.
…He was also drunk.
I am a bad girl for taking advantage of him in that state. I really am. But I simply couldn't step away from the only real chance I would have to press myself up against him and feel the soft touch of his beautiful lips against mine.
And it is a feeling I will take to bed with me every night.
Was I as inebriated as he? Oh no. I am still not legally allowed to drink so I wasn't invited on the outing Jason had arranged. Jason had won his first real big race and his team invited Tiny and Mark to go drinking with them to celebrate. Boys being boys – especially my team –I received a 3am page from my Commander asking me to pick him up from the bar.
I am surprised that he was able to hang on to me as I sped the bike through the streets, but he did … until I pulled up at the curb outside his shack. He fell into an undistinguished heap on the gravel and laughed when he stood up and fell again.
It is so good to hear him laugh, really. There are so few moments where he will smile and laugh like that. His whole face lights up and he becomes so handsome when he really really laughs.
I found him so irresistible at that moment and dropped onto my knees in the gravel beside him to share the joke.
Initially I thought I had offended him or upset him with my laugh because he just stopped and stared at me for a long time. But before I could get out an apology, he just pulled me toward him, threaded his hands into my hair and kissed me.
Yes, Diary. HE kissed ME!
He kissed me and told me that I was the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. I couldn't help it. I kissed him back. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth for him. Within a heartbeat I tasted his tongue on mine and we fell backward onto the path in front of his door and just … kissed. He was on top of me, but wasn't heavy like I thought he would be. He was so gentle, and so tender. He touched me all over and even asked me to spend the night with him.
I said yes. Of course I did. This was every single one of my fantasies coming true!
But when I got him to his room and helped him into his bed … He passed out.
Oh talk about disappointed. I was. I was so disappointed.
It was for the best, though. He was drunk and probably wouldn't remember it anyway. While I was upset that he had fallen asleep on me like that, it was for the best. I'm sure if he'd woken up the next morning with me beside him and evidence that I had allowed him the honour of being my very first, then … then …
He would have been so mad. I don't want him to be mad at me.
It's for the best that it didn't happen. The kiss is something best left as my secret… Our secret."
Jason and Tiny were completely stunned. As Keyop made kissing sounds and chuckled over Mark and Princess kissing, they both shared a guilty glance at each other.
"Keyop," Jason said finally as he extended his hand to him. "That's enough. I think we've pried too much into Princess' business."
Keyop's eyes were wide and incredulous. "Are you kidding me? This is perfect blackmail! No more dishes for me at Jill's."
Tiny agreed with Jason. "Come on, Key. No more. This is wrong."
"Nuh-uh," Keyop hummed.
From the doorway, Mark felt his heart break for her. He should have stepped in and ended this recital a long time sooner, but found his own sense of curiosity rule out over commonsense. Princess was as mysterious as she was open and the opportunity to find out who she really was, and how she really felt, pulled out selfishness inside him he never knew existed.
Now he knew too much.
And it wasn't fair to her.
He cleared his throat and clenched his fests to walk in to give a verbal ass-whooping to each person inside the room. As he took his first step he heard a cheerful greeting from beside him.
"Hi Mark."
Mark spun to find himself caught in the tractor beam of two very beautiful green eyes. He stammered at the sudden recollection of the kiss he thought was only a drunken hallucination. "Princess!"
She seemed caught by his shock and tilted her head curiously at him. "Is everything okay?"
He quickly took her hand and said the first feeble excuse that came to mind. "Uh, yeah. Come with me for a minute. I need to talk to you about something…" He had to get her out of there before she knew what was happening.
The sounds of a scuffle inside the ready room caught her attention before Mark's words did, and she pulled her hand from his. "What's happening in there?"
"Nothing," he assured quickly as he took hold of her hand again. "Just the guys goofing off."
"Oh," she whispered softly as he lightly tugged her toward him. Curiosity won out and she bit on her bottom lip to peer around him and take a look. Her whole face fell as her eyes caught a brief sight of a pink leather bound book she knew to be her journal. "Oh no. Please no."
Mark, for once, did not know what to say. All he could do was let out a long and guilty breath as she yanked her hand free of his and flew into the room. "Keyop!" She screamed in horror. "How could you?"
Keyop immediately froze mid-flight from Jason, which saw him land awkwardly onto his ass. The diary escaped his clutches and flipped a handful of times before it landed, open, to a page where she'd sketched a small picture of she and Mark kissing.
Princess froze in place and stared at the crudely drawn and coloured image that seemed to leap up out of the book to shame her completely to all present. She inhaled an embarrassed sob and brought both hands to her mouth. "No."
Keyop spluttered as if to attempt to find an excuse, whereas Tiny and Jason guiltily ran their hands through their hair and looked everywhere but at the defeated looking swan.
Princess couldn't find it within her to move. The page of the diary seemed to dance a mocking boogie of laughs and taunts as the page flapped in the air conditioner's breeze. Her breath was staggered and short, and as it drew in and out each breath seemed to get louder and heavier.
Mark seemed to be the only one capable of movement. He slid quietly into the space between Princess and the book and stooped to pick it up off the floor. "Princess," he breathed sympathetically as he closed the book and brushed it of dust. "I am so sorry."
At that apology, Princess finally lost it. Her breath exploded from her chest in a long and dejected sob. "No," she managed after a long inhale. "Keep it."
His eyes flared in surprise and he shook his head. "No, Princess. It's yours."
She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Really? Well that didn't seem to occur to any of you when you decided to steal it and read it."
Mark urged her to take the book from him. "No, Princess. Please. I had no idea until …"
"You could have stopped them," she seethed through her teeth as she shoved both hands against the book to thrust it back at him. "But no. You just had to listen, didn't you?"
The look of complete and utter defeat in her eyes absolutely broke his heart. When he saw her cheeks staining with tears, he felt himself crumble. "No, Princess. I didn't want to hear anything, it just happened."
She finally snatched the book from his hands. "Them," she growled as she pointed at the silent trio behind her. "I would expect this from. But not you." She inhaled a deep and shaking breath as she pulled the book in tight enough to her chest that she seemed to contract around it. "I hope you enjoyed it, Mark. I really do."
Mark's breath drew in sharp as she turned and ran from the room. "Princess!" he called after her. "Princess, wait." He took only three long and fast strides toward the door, but paused just inside the doorway. His body slumped and head fell forward.
Tiny's voice filtered into his hearing. It was unsure and apologetic. "Commander, man. We're sorry."
Mark clenched his eyes shut tightly and shook his head. "How is it that I get the blame for something you all did?"
Jason strode up beside him and leaned his hand on the wall to fall into a slouch. "How much of it did you hear?"
"Does it matter?"
Jason nodded. "If you're trying to play innocent, then yeah."
Mark took a deep breath. "I heard enough, Jason."
"You could have stopped us at any time."
Mark's head rocked to shoot a glare at him. "And you should have done the same, Jason. You should not have allowed Keyop to go through it." His head rocked back to that his gaze fell to the floor. "Those are her private thoughts. Noone should have read them."
"If you listened, Skipper, then you're as guilty as we are." He sniffed and wiped at his nose with the bottom of his thumb. "And you owe her as much of an apology as we do."
G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3
Humiliation thy name is Princess.
That was about all she could bear to think to herself as she clutched at her pillow and willed away another wave of nausea and tears. She didn't want to think of exactly what and of how much Mark and the boys had read of her diary.
It was too embarrassing.
A single entry proclaiming her love for her commander passed through her mind. The girlish and whimsical lyrics she remembered immediately contracted her body into a foetal position that quivered and shook as a new set of sobs and tears forced themselves free.
They all had to be laughing at her. All of them.
And Mark. He would probably never look in her direction ever again. His every glance at her would remind him she was a hopeless fool who was in love with a man who would never feel the same for her. He would never pair them together on missions ever again, or put his arm over her shoulder when there was a threat, or smile at her when they woke after the Firebird maneouvre.
She choked out another sob with enough force as to gag and let her eyes fall on the offending little book bound in pink leather. "This is all your fault," she whispered hoarsely. "All your fault!"
She sat up and snatched the book from her dresser. Without wiping at her eyes and nose she forced the book open and grabbed blindly at the pages. Each tear of each piece of scented paper gave her another wracking sob. She let herself cry as she tore the book, one page and then two, then three in one pull, until finally she hauled the book at the wall and buried her face into her pillow.
"I just want to die," she moaned loudly into the down feathers of the beaten old pillow. "Why can't the ground just open up and swallow me?"
"Because I don't think any of us could live without you," Mark's voice crooned from the door.
She stiffened at the sound of his voice, but didn't pull herself away from the pillow. "Just go away, Mark."
"Not until I've had a chance to apologise."
She pulled her head from the pillow and punched at it as if to soften it. "You took your chance," she growled before burying her head back in the pillow. "You've apologized, now go."
He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and moved toward her bed. "I said I want to apologise, Princess. I haven't actually done it yet."
She buried herself further into the pillow when she felt him sit on the mattress beside her. "Then say sorry and leave me alone."
He stroked his thumbs along the glossy black cover of a spiral book in his hands and kept his head low. "Will you at least look at me?"
She tried for another inch deeper into the pillow. "No."
"You'll need to breathe sooner or later." He took a breath. "I can wait."
She slowly became aware of what exactly he meant by that comment when she found herself unable to take a full lung of air through the mass of feathers, cotton and mattress. With a resigned grunt she raised her head from the pillow and took a deep, deep, breath. Her eyes slid to Mark fully expecting to see him with a self-satisfied grin on his face for being right. She hiccupped when she saw he was looking sadly down into his hands. It made her draw herself up into a seat.
"Mark. Look." She took another long breath. "You and the guys really crossed the line today."
"I know," he breathed softly.
"I don't know if I can accept just a soft apology and one of your "forgive me" stares."
His lips pursed and he nodded, yet still didn't look at her. "I understand. I think I'd feel the same way."
She drew her legs up to cross them in front of her and set her hands into the void between them. "I feel so violated."
"Raw and exposed," he continued for her.
She looked at him for a long moment and felt herself began to relax. "Quite frankly, I'm embarrassed. What I wrote was so private." She petted her chest, at her heart. "It's what I feel, and you guys just can't understand that." She looked away. "You don't know what it's like to feel like a woman does."
He finally raised his head and looked into her face as she shifted her gaze to him. "Don't be so quick to believe that, Princess." He stroked his hand down the cover of the book in his hand. "We feel just as much as you do."
She shook her head. "No. Guys don't have emotions like women do. You don't feel with the intensity we do or have the same emotional confusion we do."
"Yeah, we do." He passed the book to her and set it between her hands. "I want you to read this."
Her head tilted to one side. "What is it?"
"My journal."
Her eyes flashed and she thrust it back at him. "No. I won't read it."
"I insist," he urged quietly. "I saw into your mind, you need to see into mine."
She shuffled herself back a little as if to illustrate her vehemence against violating his privacy. "I don't need anything except for you guys to let me have my privacy." She pulled her blanket over her knees and drew them to her chest. "There are things we don't need to know about each other, Mark."
"Then I'll read it to you."
She shook her head quickly and held up her hand to ask him to stop. "No. Please don't. I don't want to know what's in there."
He analysed her posture for a short moment. "You're scared of what's in there, aren't you?"
"Of course I am." She flicked her hand at it. "Aside from what I know will kill me, I really don't want to know about what and who you think about, what car you think is …cool."
He appeared somewhat amused – if not completely stunned. "Is that what you think you'll find in there?"
She shrugged. "What else do guys think about?" She hugged herself and pulled the blanket higher. "Women, cars, and in your case, planes."
"Yes,' he intoned blandly. "Because we're all so hollow."
Her eyes widened and shifted to the side as she dropped her neck down into her shoulders. "Well…"
He let out a long breath and rose to a stand. He dropped the book onto her mattress and wiped his hands down his thighs. "I've tabbed the entries I think you need to read."
She glanced at the pristine looking book and tilted her head at a few coloured tags poking out of the top. "You actually tagged pages?"
He smiled thinly. "You always say I'm anal-retentive."
She shrugged. "No, Jason does. I consider it more …"
"Adorable?" He offered hopefully.
She immediately blushed and shrank. "Yes. Adorable." She shook her head as she admitted to herself she was incapable of remaining mad at him, especially when he was trying so hard to make things right. She kissed the air and held up the book. "Mark. I don't need to read this. You're forgiven."
"But I want you to read it." He backed toward the door. "If only to let me forgive myself."
She tilted and shook her head. "That's not how it works, Mark."
"How about if I order you to read it?"
She held it up. "Don't make me throw it at you."
He held his hands up, somewhat pleased to see they were back on joking terms. "Seriously, Princess. I want you to read at least a couple of entries."
She rolled her eyes and drew the book toward her. "I'll think about it."
He nodded. "Well promise me that you'll read at least my last entry."
"Will my promise make you walk out of the room and leave me alone?"
His eyes widened and he gave a bouncing nod of his head. "I really don't want to be near you when you do read it." He slouched to one side. "I'm not exactly proud of some of the things in there."
The admission seemed to swirl around her and she found herself stroking the cover of it with her fingertips. "You really don't want me to read it, do you?"
"Not really."
"It's scary, isn't it?" She asked softly. "Suddenly feeling so exposed and vulnerable."
"Our greatest weaknesses are our most desperate thoughts, needs and wants."
She shook her head. "I think it's a strength."
He smiled. "Until someone else has them in their hands."
"Yes," she agreed softly.
He stepped toward her and stooped beside her bed to run his thumb down her face. "But I trust you, Princess. When you find out the might Eagle isn't so mighty…"
She pressed her fingers to his lips to quiet him. "You're not the Eagle. You're Mark. Stop living for the uniform and be the man."
He petted the book. "That's what I'm trying to do, Princess." He winked and kissed her cheek. "Just read it and I'll see you later."
She watched him leave her room and took a long breath. Once again he wielded his power against her to make her forgive him. This time it took more than just a sad look of his blue eyes, but it happened just the same.
"I'm so weak," she moaned to herself as she slumped back into her pillow and brought Mark's journal to her chest. Her immediate instinct had been to set the book on the table beside her bed and just let it be, but the desire to look into his mind was somewhat urgent and she found herself flicking at a small red post-it tag.
"Just one entry," she promised to herself as she slid her finger into the pages between the tag to open it. "Then he can have it back."
She opened the book and leaned back comfortably into her pillows.
"Sometimes I wonder if Zoltar really is a reincarnation of Houdini. For all of our best efforts at detention, he always manages to elude us. We were so close today. I had his cape in my hand and was sure he had no chance of escape. Jason was to my left, Princess to my right, and Keyop had position behind Zoltar. The man was completely surrounded, but he still managed to escape.
I can't even remember what happened to allow him to escape. None of the team have any idea.
Princess came to me after we had landed at Neptune to suggest that it was, perhaps, her fault. She believed that she may have mistimed her charges and that the resulting early detonation may have given the Spectran leader his "out". I assured her this was not the case, but she submitted a report to that effect anyhow. I know that because I was pulled into a meeting with Chief Anderson to discuss it. Her report effectively saved my ass from a severe reprimand from the Chief – as I am usually the one privy to such wonders at the closure of a half-won mission – but almost resulted in me having to apply disciplinary action on her.
All I could do to save her from reprimand was to outline, detail, and report on the many errors we made during the mission that all culminated in Zoltar getting free once again to effectively blame us all.
The only thing that wasn't an error was Princess' charges. They were not only set to within a millisecond of my specifications, but were positioned and spaced to pin-point perfection. She changed my sequencing orders to her own design, which ultimately saved all our asses from being blown apart. I doubt my original schematic would have weakened the mecha enough for us to destroy it. She saved us, and then took the blame for the mistake that resulted in Zoltar's escape – no doubt to save me from yet another reprimand.
She damn well drives me crazy when she does things like that.
…Actually she drives me crazy pretty much with everything she does these days.
I have to digress a moment in order to explain to you, and to myself I suppose, my sudden uncertainty where my third is concerned. Uncertainty not in her abilities, she far surpasses even myself on most days, but uncertainty in how I feel toward her. I know I love her. I absolutely love her. She is, beyond doubt, the most important woman in my life. But is it a love higher than a solid, strong friendship? I'm starting to ask myself that question more and more these days.
Recently I've found myself taking more time to look at her – I really mean look at her – and the more I look, the more I want to keep looking at her. It's like watching the flight of an experimental jet as she takes off into the clouds. I can't tear my eyes from it. It's analytical without analysis. It's complete awe without the wonder – if that makes any sense.
I have never really wondered about her before. To me everything she's ever done and everything she is, is simply so perfectly natural that there is no need for question. I look upon her with a sense of complete admiration, but no question of how she became to be. I could be so whimsical as to suggest the was put together by some God in heaven who wanted to see what sheer perfection really looked like - but that wouldn't be an extremely masculine thing to say, would it?
No. Masculine would be a comment such as something Jason might spew out "Damn, she's hot. I wouldn't mind throwing myself into that for an hour."
Ugh. The thought of speaking in that manner toward Princess is simply abhorrent. I could term it somewhat differently, while keeping the intention the same, and absolutely mean every word of it. She is a woman I wouldn't object to spending a passionate few hours with. Hell, I'd kill for the opportunity to take her to my bed and make long sensual love with her.
Love. There's that word again.
It's so easy to say where she's concerned. I won't utter that four-letter feeling for any other reason, for any other thing or person, but with her? You can ask me if I love my job, my command, my jet, the world or even life, and I'll nod, smile and say "yes". If you asked me if I loved Princess, I'd quickly smile and say, "Yes, I love her." I'd have to expand on that answer if just to make sure the asker knew I understood the question.
You know what is strange, though?
For all the rumours and speculation, noone has ever asked me that question."
Princess felt her breath rush into her with his admission. The inhale was haggard and shaking, and she found herself in a state of half crying as she held the open book at her chest. His words and their depth were hardly surprising, contrary to what she had indicated to him earlier, Mark had a definite gift with wordage. The surprising part of it was that he used that gift and applied it to her.
The entry was ambiguous in his true feeling toward her. As much as it declared and assured that he did, indeed, love his third in command, it still left the kind of love somewhat open and in the air. His entry had stated that he wrote it as if to explain to his mind how he felt, but his explanation hadn't given him the conclusion he seemed to have been searching for.
She both licked at and then bit her lip as she dared flick to another tagged page. She brought one hand to her mouth as she let her eyes settle on the next entry.
"If I ever had a question as to how much of an insensitive asshole I am capable of being, then the answer was suitably presented to me today.
As you recall from previous entries, my third in Command, Princess, has been in Spectran hands for the last three days. It was a mission that I approved. Her abduction was a necessary part of the mission. She was to snare herself inside a flower we all knew to be of Spectran design, in order to test a new protective skin, and to gather intelligence for our defence against the threat.
As she usually does, Princess completed these mission parameters to the letter.
I never initially felt any concern for her when Keyop reported her abduction. It was a part of the plan, and we were to just sit back and wait until she ultimately made contact. Princess is my most capable team mate. I had no real cause for concern that she might have been in any serious trouble - Until the twelfth however, my nonchalance switched to outright worry.
Princess would never leave herself out of contact with any of us – especially me. She and I have had our own private line of communication through the transbonderband since we were 14. Even whilst in enforced communications blackout, we would utilize this line to keep an eye on each other. I knew that if I tried to make contact on this line, and she was alive, she would respond. She knows I use this when I am scared out of my mind. She would never ignore it.
But in those first couple of days I was on it every ten minutes, desperately begging her to reach out to me. I heard nothing – absolutely nothing. Not even a "fuck off, Mark, and leave me alone." Answer… Which I would have readily accepted. I tried every available means to find her. I ordered her to answer, pleaded with her to answer, just asked her to tell me she was okay…
When I received those orders from the Chief to firebomb the flowers I somewhat gladly decided to use my plane to kill the both of us in a single movement. As I dumped my fuel and took what I believe to be my last flight, I couldn't help but picture her in my mind. Her voice echoed in my head – her soft, wonderful voice – and I cried. I felt my tears burn down my face with every recollection of her voice calling my name. I knew right then that I'd lost my very reason to fight, to live. I heard the plane's engine splutter and closed my eyes to make sure her image was the last thing my mind saw when impact ignited the field.
I tried so hard to convince myself that she'd have understood why. We are G-Force, we swore the oath, we lived sacrifice, we had to do it.
But, shit. I couldn't convince myself it was right – how could I have expected her to do the same?
I was truthfully disappointed when Jason called to me on my transbonderband for pick-up. At that point I wanted death. I wanted to suffer the same fate as my beloved Princess. I tried to scream one last time for her to call to me, but even as I forced my entire body to expel the yell, my voice vanished … all I could get out was a breathless whisper of her name.
God, I thought I'd killed the only thing in life worth living for. I'd killed her, for what? For nothing! The firebomb did nothing but create newer flowers. As I watched the little white buds fall from the sky I felt my absolute existence abandon me.
Honestly, everything after that was a blur. I don't remember the many trips to Centre Neptune or to Jill's place for the remainder of the day, or even the morning after. All I remember was a sense of numbness. I wandered only through a white cloud of nothing. The only thing I do remember was taking off that damn communicator and damning G-Force to hell. I didn't want to be part of it any more.
Until I heard her scramble.
It was as though my soul re-ignited and suddenly I was alive again. Everything succeeding that moment is perfectly vivid. She called out to us, and we found her.
My sweet Lord we found her.
When I saw her sheepish smile and heard her voice say my name, I had to fight every instinct to rush her, crush her to me and declare to the world that I loved her.
And I do.
Right up until that moment I didn't have a complete understanding of the true depths of my feelings for her. I knew I loved her. I knew I needed her. I knew life wasn't worth a pinch of salt if she wasn't there in it. I learned that I ceased to function as a human being without her ... But until I saw her in front of me. Until I heard my name pass through her lips, I didn't have full comprehension as to just who she was to me.
It was like a sledgehammer to my heart.
Princess is the woman I love. No, I more than just love her. I am completely, totally, undeniably, and absolutely in love with her. The lust, the dreams, the desire … it's all just a symptoms, the by-product of my love for her. For too long I put it down to just being a pervert for the white panties underneath that pink skirt – a man thing – that it was just desire born of hormones and nothing more.
I was so wrong.
This all leads to my opening line to this entry. I said when I walked on to this page that I had proven beyond doubt that I'm an asshole. The lead-up to this moment was contradictory to that – well at least I would hope it is.
What pinpoints my asinine behaviour is how I responded to her relief that we'd found her.
It was obvious she wanted some physical reaction; a hug, a tear; but I found myself so overwhelmed with my own relief that I honestly could not move. I was so scared that if I held her in the way I wanted to that I would crush the life right out of her. I only just got her back; I didn't want to kill her with my own relief.
So all I could do was tilt my head off to one side and utter the most insensitive sentence I think I have ever spoken in my life: "It's good to have you back."
It's good to have you back.
What kind of asshole sends the woman he loves into what could very well have been a suicide, Kamikaze, mission and says something like that when he sees her safe and sound? Tell me.
Worse … worse was that she was sent in there for absolutely nothing! The answer was found not through her pain, suffering and possibly torture, but by the chief cutting himself on a jagged piece of steel.
She suffered. I suffered. We suffered. For nothing.
The only good thing to come out of this was my own clarity in how I feel for her.
But was that really a good thing? I now know what I want, what I need, but I have no idea on how to get it.
Perhaps if she'll ever speak to me again, I can explain it to her. But how can I admit to her how I feel when I have shown her the exact opposite?
"It's good to have you back"
God, I'm an ass."
Princess felt her heart rise in to her throat at his recollection of what was, perhaps, the worst mission she'd ever embarked on.
He'd never come to her at all over the incident since her return, which was several months ago. She hadn't even found herself privy to any of the mission reports or intelligence documents surrounding the event. Chief Anderson had felt it better to her recovery that she remain clear of any official reports.
A tear ran down her cheek at the hurried recount of his emotional state during her abduction. She could read his anguish not only in his words, but in the blurred and crinkled areas of the page where he'd obviously allowed his tears to fall. She closed her eyes to picture him writing this entry: Leaned over his desk, his forehead in his hand, with his face hovering directly over the page.
She inhaled and ran her fingertip over one of the crinkled circles on the page. "Oh Mark," she whimpered as she lowered her face to kiss softly at the yellowed and ink-bled patch. "You should have told me."
She buried her face in the page and held it as if to hug it. "I needed you to come to me."
She closed the book and slid off the bed to go to him. She had to speak to him about what he had written and how he felt. She needed to assure him that she felt exactly the same way.
But something made her pause.
The last entry.
Mark had insisted that she read his final entry if nothing else. She twisted in an indecisive sway between her bed and the door as her mind and hear warred over what she should do. She knew she had to forget the rest of the contents and rush to him. She needed to assure him that she was there, she was his, all he had to do was ask her.
Her mind chided at her. This entry was several months ago. Perhaps when the relief wore off Mark realized that his sudden clarity was just that: relief. It was safe to assume that the reason he hadn't come to her to tell her what he felt was because he no longer felt it.
She breathed in a long breath and held it as she took her seat back on her bed and flicked the pages to the entry he'd asked her to read. "Okay Mark," she managed on her shaking exhale. "I think I'm ready."
"Today I betrayed the woman I love.
I want to deny that it was my fault and lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of Jason, Tiny and Keyop, but how can I? I strode in to the doorway when I heard what I only hope was the first telling of Princess' diary and simply froze in place.
I know I should have either walked away or stormed into the ready room and torn each man limb from limb, but I couldn't pull myself away. To know the innermost workings of a woman I have only just begun to really understand was simply too great an opportunity to pass up.
I know I've referred to myself in some pretty negative ways throughout this book. I've pulled off the greatest heists, played the greatest pranks, have been the most arrogant asshole. I've fallen into acts of complete auto-erotic perversion and recounted perhaps the most painful and embarrassing tales of my life. But nothing, absolutely nothing I have told you so far can come anywhere near close to the heinous act I played a part in today.
Princess has never asked for a single thing from us since we've all been together. She has done everything for each of us without question or complaint. She answers to our whims and dances on our strings, never expecting anything from us in return… Well, nothing except for a slight smudge of privacy to be able to be herself with no ridicule or teasing.
Today we all denied her that one simple request.
I, of all people, should have known better. I should have stopped it.
I will not blame her if she will never speak to me again. I will try to apologise and make things right. I will do whatever it takes to make her trust in me again.
Words are never enough when it comes to apology – I am a firm believer in that rule. Anyone can fake regret and apologetic words. What can't be faked, however, is honesty; raw and unashamed honesty. And so I start with the offering of my own thoughts and embarrassments. I will let her know who I really am as a person and how much she means to me. I can really offer her little more than that.
But I want to.
I've always wanted to.
Princess. If you made it this far, please know that I'm sorry. I will do whatever it takes to prove to you that … "
Princess slammed the book closed with a grunt. She couldn't read any further – she didn't need to. With forgiveness coming at least two entries earlier, for her to continue would make her no better than the guys … and besides, if she really wanted to hear Mark tell her he loved her, she wanted to hear it in his voice, not in the voice from her head.
She slid off the bed and drew the book into her chest as she stalked out of the room.
G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3G3
Jason was obviously off his game this afternoon, as Mark caught a returned ping pong ball with the paddle at his chest. He stumbled back slightly as though the hit had been hard and frowned a little at his second.
"Not into it today, Jase?"
Jason pressed both palms into the laminated green tabletop and let out a growl. "I'm just still so pissed at myself over the Princess thing."
Mark bounced the ball up off the paddle. He let his eyes follow the small white ball as it rose up and down. "Yeah, I know."
"Did you talk to her?"
Mark missed a bounce and slouched as the ball skittered from the table to the floor and rolled under the couch. "I tried to."
"How is she?"
Mark flicked his eyes up to Jason. "How do you think she's feeling, Man? That was her diary, and …" he closed his yes and shook his head. "There are things we don't need aired to the whole Federation."
Jason tilted his head guiltily to one side. "I hear that."
Mark put his paddle on the table and thrust his hands into his pockets. "You three need to apologise to her, you know that."
He nodded. "Yeah, I know."
He raised his head. "Jase…" Before he could get the words out he heard his name from the doorway. He lowered his gaze to see her standing at the doorway. His diary was in her hand, and her cheeks were stained with tears. He couldn't hide the panic in his voice. "Princess?"
She gave a hiccup from the door and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Mark," she breathed as she strode quickly toward him.
Mark's lips pursed as she approached. He knew what he wanted to say, but wasn't sure if it would be what she wanted to hear. He made do with sliding his hand down her cheek.
Princess clutched at his hand, but kept it on her face as she looked up into his eyes. Without a further word she rolled up onto her toes and pressed her lips against his. She drew her arms around his neck and deepened their connection.
He didn't hesitate, nor pull away. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her hard enough against him that she lifted from the ground. His mouth opened to hers and he moaned as his tongue found hers and her head tiled further into their kiss. They separated only when found the need to breathe.
"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" He asked as he rested his forehead against hers.
She nodded and opened her eyes wide to stare closely into his. "Only if you do one more thing for me."
"Anything," he promised quietly.
"I want to hear it in your voice."
He inhaled hard. "That I'm sorry?"
She shook her head. "No, Mark. That you love me." She tightened her arms around his neck and kept her forehead against his as she searched his eyes for her answer. "I don't want to read about it. I want you to open your mouth and tell me."
He smiled and kept his gaze on hers. "I'm in love with you, Princess," he assured firmly, as though speaking softly may make it appear dishonest.
The order in his tone made her chuckle and she shook her head as she pulled back from him. "Is that Mark, or the Eagle talking?"
His brow flicked. "Both."
She took his hand and slowly walked backward to draw him toward the doorway. "Is it Eagle or Mark who had the fantasy on May 17th?"
He smirked at the tease and found himself following her with little urging. "That all depends. Were you in birdstyle?"
Jason coughed as he watched the pair leave the room as though there had been no disagreement at all. His head shifted to an equally confused Tiny, who was half way through a burger. "What did we miss?"
Tiny set the half-eaten burger on the table and folded his arms across his chest. "Dunno, Jase, but I sure as hell don't think I want to read it in her next diary entry."