Disclaimer: I own nothing of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman

Simply for the Pleasure of It

by Maritza Franklin

August 13, 2011

"Sully," no response. "Sully," repeated the Cheyenne man crunching down beside him by the fire, on this surprisingly cool summer day.

"Huh?" finally the younger man replied hunched down as well.

"I have been calling you awhile."

"You have?" oddly dumbfounded.

"Yes. I think it is time for my brother to go home to his wife."

"You saying I outstayed my welcome?" feeling rejected, first by his wife and now his brother.

"I only allowed you to stay when you wondered in troubled and tired last night. You have had more than enough time to think things through staying up all night. One cannot keep avoiding—Michaela must be worried."

"More like thrilled being out of her hair today." He rose to his full 5'11 height and strolled away.

"Care to finally discuss what happened?" humor threatening his face tailing Sully, certain it was what most couples experience at one time or another.

Sully paused turning embarrassedly away, sighing before speaking. "Michaela and I, well…we ain't been getting it on these days."

"Getting it on? Lover's quarrel?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"I see…" he paused, the humor mounting, a chuckle escaping. "You mean getting together for the purpose of off-springs?"

"It ain't funny and it's not only about producing kids." he regretted almost admitting it.

"No, of course not," controlling his humor. It is also good to enjoy loving your wife for pleasure other than procreation. So…, she has been turning you down or is it you that have the problem?"

"I ain't got a problem!" he voiced exasperatingly. "She just won't let me touch her these days, like I'm repulsive or something," he admitted dejectedly.

"Does she say why?"

"That's just it, she ain't saying. I thought she wanted kids of our own."

"I am sure she still does. You did say she has always shown enthusiasm so that cannot be the reason."

"But it's like something happens to her to squelch the flames the minute I approach her."

"Mmm….do you bring up conceiving just before approaching?"

"But we've always talk about it, and she's always been fine, even more eager…to get…things…started."

"Yes, but it is several months into the marriage and no child."

"You saying I'm pressuring her?" horrified at the thought.

"Your words, not mine."

"Ugh! I'm such a fool," he growled, breaking the twig in his hand. " Sure I want her to eventually have our own child, but I ain't t meant to pressure her."

"It is not I you should be explaining to."

"Yeah, you're right, but um…she threw me out. I'm afraid if I go back now," he yawned, "She'll have my hide. She's plenty mad."

"Fear complicates things and has no place in a marriage. One must face them to find freedom and happiness."

"Yeah," sarcastically, "So long as I don't stick my foot in my mouth again."

"Stick your foot—where?"

"It's an expression…you know…for saying the wrong things—never mind."

Michaela paced her clinic after closing—furiously. She wasn't sure whom she was more upset with; Sully for pressuring her about a baby she obviously was too late to conceive due to her advancing age, or herself for disappointing and pushing him away. Checking his lean-to this morning nearest the homestead he sometimes went to when troubled only made her unsettled as he obviously hadn't slept there. She hadn't meant to push him away, to shout and reject him so harshly this last time. But she just couldn't bear not being able to produce an heir for Sully, thereby letting him down—feeling less of a woman. She'll never forget the horror on his face as she demanded him to leave her alone. Now he was nowhere to be found when normally he would have been home a couple of hours later after clearing his head. She figured he must have gone to the new reservation and wondered how long he planned to be there.

"Fine, let him stay there. See if I care." Suddenly her head fell unto her arm on top of her desk, finally releasing the tears she no longer could control.

The clinic bell rang, startling Michaela. Wiping at her face, she drew a mirror from her desk drawer and to her horror met swollen red eyes. The bell didn't ring again, nor did it follow with a frantic knock, but with a gentle knock. So it wasn't an after hour emergency after all.

"Just a moment," she called out rushing to splash water on her face; grabbed a towel for camouflage before opening the door. "I'll be with you shortly. Just washing my face," then proceeded towards the basin again.

"There's no need to pretend with me."

Turning around in surprised, lowering the towel, "Cloud Dancing, you of all people to deceive. Did he send you?"

"No, he does not know that I am here."

"I suppose he told you what happened last night," she turned away, foolishly ashamed, the tears threatening again.

"Yes, you know we are spiritual brothers."

"Is he alright?" she asked concernedly.

"Only that a little rest and the love of a good woman can only cure. Do not be angry with him. You really need to talk out your frustrations, disappointments and concerns"

"I'm not really angry at him. I suppose you know why I've been pushing him away?"

"You and Sully just need to get away—be alone with nothing in the way, but love—here."

"What's this?"

"Special herbs to help encourage child bearing."

"Does it really work?" she asked optimistically.

"I have never seen it fail before."

Shortly after, the Cheyenne man brought Michaela to a tent far from the reservation. He quickly climbed off his horse and grabbed her hand.

"I left him sleeping here after giving him something to let him finally rest a while. He hadn't slept last night. Make yourself comfortable while I make myself scarce to look after the children."

"Thank you Cloud Dancing. I really hope the herbs work."

"Don't even think about conceiving tonight. Tonight is about getting reacquainted, letting go of your feelings and loving one another simply for the pleasure of it. He helped her off her horse, and she bid him goodnight in a heartfelt embrace.

With evening fast approaching, Michaela readied herself taking a quick bath in the brook after checking on the stew Cloud Dancing left stewing. She wrapped herself in a sheet she gathered from her clinic, toga style, and then went to make a simple headdress adorned with scented flowers found nearby, even decorating the tent with it.

Leaving the tent flap open to let in the light from the campfire, now that darkness has ascended, Michaela waited patiently for her husband to rouse. She lovingly eyed him peacefully sleeping, feeling such immense overwhelming emotion for this man. Taking a single lilac, she caressed his arm. He nudged it away continuing his slumber. She giggled feeling surprisingly stimulated she hadn't felt in weeks. Missing the feeling, she continued her gentle assault now over his bare chest watching it rise and fall, stirring him. She quickly trailed the purple scented bloom over his lips, tickling and tantalizing them, making them twitch before he shifted.

"Mmm…" he moaned satisfyingly, recognizing Michaela's favorite scent.

Michaela traced the flower over his eyes that she missed so much. The way he often languidly caressed her body with them, fluttering her heart frantically in anticipation. They flickered before finally remaining opened, and she waited eagerly for his reaction.

He studied her a moment, still dazed, gazing her as though a goddess come down from heaven all a glowed from behind.

"Michaela you're here, "he gently breathed out, lifting a hand to her face to check if she was real, "Am I dreaming?"

"I'm here sweetheart. You're not dreaming. I should never have sent you away," then kissed his thumb thumbing her lips.

"God, you're beautiful," smiling in awe. "I sometimes can't believe you actually married me. I'm sorry...I ain't meant to press..."

"Shhh…" pressing a finger to his lips. "We can talk afterward. Just love me Sully." And before he knew it, she descended deliciously upon him with such fervor he hadn't felt in weeks; tasting and taking so sensually, oh so intimately.

Succumbing to her every wish, the makeshift gown fell apart; his need mounting like never before. God he loved her and prayed that this wasn't a dream.

And it wasn't, as they made urgent and sweet love into the long summer night, with Michaela forgetting about what they argued about, the herbs and conceiving; losing herself wholeheartedly in her husband's magical and wondrous, loving and passionate touch she foolishly regretted avoiding. It didn't matter if she didn't conceive this evening. For the night belonged solely to them alone; to feast, indulge, love and just letting go, simply for the pleasure of it.

Little did they knew—they weren't entirely alone as a new life miraculously began to take form, waiting to be revealed in nine months to the joyous, and proud parents.

The End...Thanks for Reading...