UPDATE: So this was originally a one off story for the V-Day Extravaganza, but then the plot bunnies took hold, and there is now a chapter 4 and beyond…

Author's note: Okay, so I wrote this in response to a prompt for the Valentine's Day Story Extravaganza, which asked for Wolf stuck in an elevator with a woman. It went through a few iterations in my head, but this is how it ended up!

There are three chapters, and I'll post the next two on Saturday and Sunday. Rated T for now, but likely to hit an M as we go, because things get smutty later on…

Chapter One - Elevator

Wolf Taylor hefted the paper grocery bag more securely into his arms as he waited for the elevator. The hospital lobby was quiet – but then most buildings were quiet these days, what with the majority of the world's population having been wiped out. Still, St Louis was becoming busier, and with medical personnel still thin on the ground, he guessed Miller had got lucky with this surgery on his busted ankle, which had never been quite right after his spell as a POW.

The elevator arrived and Wolf stepped inside, his ears immediately registering terrible piped music, something that not even the apocalypse had been able to wipe out. Pressing the button for the twelfth floor, he turned to face the doors and just as they were closing, he saw a woman hurrying towards the elevator. Reaching out, he caught the door, prompting them to reopen. The woman smiled her thanks as she joined him, and he registered blonde hair and, of all things, freckles, before he reminded himself not to stare.

"What floor did you need?" He asked, and she smiled again.

"Twelve, please."

He shifted slightly to show her that the button for that floor was already lit, and she nodded. Standing a couple of feet apart – about as much as the small space would allow - they both stared at the closed doors as the elevator started to move upwards.

Her skirt was pretty tight. He'd only noticed it because of the way it slightly restricted her stride as she'd crossed the lobby, but now he was in close proximity, it was really hard not to notice some more, especially when the skirt was showcasing legs as good as hers. And so Wolf looked, because he was human, but he didn't linger, because he liked to think he was better than that. Besides, he thought, Ravit would kick my arse for being so disrespectful… And then he remembered all over again, and had to stop himself from shuddering.

As the floor numbers illuminated in red above the doors, he could have sworn he saw her give him a glance out of the corner of his eye, but before he could take a glance of his own, the elevator shuddered and abruptly stopped, the music cutting out simultaneously, leaving them suspended in silence. The lights flickered out for a second, only to be replaced by dim emergency lighting.

"Okay…" The woman said slowly, and Wolf turned to look at her.

"Power outage?" He suggested. Those were still pretty common in St Louis, even though electricity was technically now available twenty four hours a day.

"I guess." She made a face. "Knew I should have taken the stairs. Serves me right for skipping the workout."

She had a southern accent, a cute smile, and great legs, and he was trying hard not to notice too much, but she smelled bloody fantastic.

"I'm Wolf." He offered, holding out his hand.

She tipped her head to one side, fixing him with a sceptical expression. "Your mom call you that?"

He couldn't help laughing. "Yeah, as a matter of fact, she did."

"I'll take your word for it." She shot him that smile again, and shook his hand. "I'm Riley. There's an emergency call button on that panel, right?"

"Right." He dropped her hand and turned to the panel, hitting the red alarm button. The speaker above the panel gave a slight crackle, but there was nothing more. He pressed the button again, and spoke clearly, "Hello? Anybody there?" Again, a crackle, and again, silence.

Instinctively, he looked up to the hatch in the ceiling, and began to calculate the force needed to jump and open it, but he was distracted by Riley setting her bag down in the corner and making to sit.

"Guess this might take a while." She commented.

Wolf looked up at the hatch again, then at the control panel, then back at Riley. "You think we just wait?"

She looked a little amused. "What else are we going to do? Go all John McClane?"

"Well-" He started, but then reminded himself that he was in a hospital elevator, not on a warship, and tried to relax instead, setting down his own bag and leaning back against the wall. "So you're a Die Hard fan?"

"Isn't everybody?" She deadpanned, then grinned. "With four older brothers, I must have seen every action movie ever made." She gave him a little once over, just a flick of her eyes, but he caught it. "Judging by that uniform, you've probably got a few moves of your own?"

He shrugged, deciding to underplay it. "A few." He conceded, with a slight smile, remembering to keep his eyes on her face, not the legs that had been revealed even further by her posture on the floor.

"Well, save your strength Wolfie, we might need it later."

"My name is Wolf." He said firmly. He'd take Wolf Man from Miller, but Wolfie made him sound like a puppy, and it reminded him of people he didn't want to remember right now.

"My mistake, Mister Wolf." Her smile had turned a little cheeky. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." He shrugged, his eyes straying back to the hatch. It wouldn't be that hard to get out of here.

She ran her hand through her hair, blonde strands falling over her face for a moment before she swept them back. "What are you doing in St Louis?"

"Right now, visiting a mate in hospital." He replied disingenuously, and she gave him a look. "I was in the US on a training exercise when everything went to hell." He conceded. "Got caught up from there."

"You haven't been home?" She asked.

"This is home now." He deflected. "Where are you from?" He asked instead, aiming to turn the conversation firmly away from his past. That wasn't something he talked to his friends about nowadays, let alone a stranger.

"I'm just a nice southern girl, can't you tell?" She exaggerated her accent and gave him a teasing smile.

He narrowed his eyes a little. There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. For all of her relaxed, teasing manner – which somehow needled him a little – she was guarded underneath, he was sure of it.

He opened his mouth to speak, but then a loud crackle came from the speaker above the control panel. He pressed the alarm button, and the crackle came again, this time accompanied by a voice.

"Hello? This is maintenance. Anyone in there?" The male voice was almost too cheerful.

"Two of us." Wolf answered with a surprisingly strong feeling of relief. "Power out?"

"Generator overloaded. Hang tight, we'll have you moving again as soon as we can. Got to divert power back to the wards first."

Suddenly Riley was by his side, leaning into the speaker. "This is Doctor Riley. Can you make sure one of the other doctors checks my post ops on floor twelve? Ortho ward?"

"Sure doc, will do. Hang tight." One last crackle, and the speaker went dead.

Wolf turned to her. "Doctor Riley, huh?"

She shrugged. "Just Riley will do fine. But I'm guessing you're here to visit… Petty Officer Miller?"

He couldn't help laughing slightly. "You're his surgeon?"

"Yes I am." She settled back onto the floor. "He's a sweet guy."

"You could say that." He allowed.

"Worrying taste in literature though." She nodded towards the grocery bag, and Wolf almost groaned when he registered the lingerie catalogue sticking out of the top.

"It's a joke." He protested.

"Sure, whatever you say." Before he could stop her, she'd scooted over and grabbed the catalogue, leafing through as she returned to her position in the corner. "Interesting…" She turned it around so he could see, the page showing a model in a very tiny underwear set. "This your kind of thing?"

Her teasing manner had been prickling him for a while, but now irritation really blossomed. "I'm sure you got a lot of practice tormenting your brothers, but knock it off, would you? I just came here to see my mate, cheer him up a bit, and I need this-" He gestured around the stationary elevator car, "-like a hole in the head." Which, he acknowledged to himself, is also about as much as I need a beautiful woman stuck in my eye line right now.

"Whoa." She dropped the catalogue and held out her hands in surrender. "I'm sorry." She sounded sincere. "I was just messing around. Didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset." He said, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling again, his eyes fixing on the hatch once more. "I'm frustrated."

"Wait…" She got to her feet, reaching out to touch his arm. "Are you claustrophobic?"

"Of course not." He snapped at her, then instantly regretted it. None of this was her fault, and in truth he couldn't understand why it was getting him so riled up.

"But you're sweating, and tense." Her voice was surprisingly gentle, and he lowered his head to look at her, registering that she was right on both counts.

"I'm not claustrophobic. I've been in much smaller spaces than this."

"But not trapped, maybe." She said calmly. "Which is a different thing." She squeezed his arm slightly. "You should sit down. It creates a bigger sense of space."

The last thing he wanted was to admit she was right, to appear weak in front of her – or anyone – but at the same time, he knew she'd nailed it. At least it helped explain his reactions. He sank down to the floor and she came to sit beside him.

"You know, I got a whole new bunch of phobias since the end of the world." She told him. "Don't like to be alone, don't like loud noises… I figure just about all of us are dealing with trauma in one way or another."

"That a medical opinion?" He asked.

"Probably." She replied, and he found himself laughing. He turned his head to look at her properly.

"You don't like to be alone?"

"I share an apartment with the most irritating woman ever to walk the earth, but damn it if the sound of her incessant talking doesn't soothe me." She gave him a helpless kind of smile, and then they both laughed.

As the laughter faded, she kept looking into his face, and he felt like he couldn't look away. He was noticing those freckles again, dusting her nose and cheekbones.

"You're interesting." She said slowly. "For a man who doesn't talk much."

"Maybe you talk too much." He replied, but his eyes were still locked with hers.

"I do other things than talk." She responded, and he suddenly realised that their faces were now only millimetres apart. And the movements hadn't just been from her side.

I don't, he thought, but then her lips were on his, and they were kissing, and he registered that it was her hair that smelled so good, and he found himself reaching out to pull her closer as her mouth opened, inviting his tongue, inviting more, as her arms wrapped around his neck.

And just as he was about to give in, two things happened simultaneously – he remembered why it was a bad idea, and the elevator shuddered into motion.