Lieutenant Saga Part One: Time Force
Welcome to the first installment of my six part series following the lives of six Time Force employees. I'm giving you a fair warning, these stories are fairly mature, and I'm rating it M through the ratings at .com. It's rated as such for adult situations, sex (not explicit), birth, death, ect. You can also read, and comment at HERE. Comments are welcome, but keep questions and discussion to my author thread, and do NOT ask me to update this, I will update it on a regular schedule, so don't ask, it'll only make me hate you. Now, thank you for reading Meghan Corbett, please make sure you are in a comfortable position, have a drink and enjoy the ride.
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It was every other day. Wake up, fight until completely exhausted, sleep, repeat. It had to be a weird life when that kind of rhythm was normal. Sighing he watched the alarm clock change from one time to the next, heaving himself out of bed and to the shower. He reported to work, fought a monster with five people who hated his guts and went home to sleep. Normal. Sure, it was entirely his fault that no one liked him. He preferred working alone; doing things himself always yielded the best result. They got in the way more than they helped. At least that's what he told himself.
By the time he was out of the shower and standing in his small kitchen he realized there was literally no food in his house. Muttering darkly, he examined the half gallon of milk, one egg, and a mysterious Tupperware he'd forgotten about way in the back. That was not a meal. It took him minutes to figure out his plan of action, and only a few more to put it in motion. In a half hour he was walking into his favorite Sports bar, pleased to see it was nearly vacant.
"Hello Eric." The bartender greeted him with a grin and placed an opened beer on the bar as he sat down.
"Hey Brennan." Eric glanced up at the hockey game playing on the widescreen TV mounted on the wall. The Pittsburgh Penguins were down by one to the Philadelphia Flyers, a pity in Eric's eyes. He watched the skaters round the ice; the Penguins had a power play and were fast approaching the goal. The young player took a shot, and it went wide left of the net as the power play expired. Though Eric was annoyed the guy'd missed, another patron of the bar was much more vocal about their annoyance.
"Oh come on, keep shooting like that and you'll find yourself back in Wilkes-Barre." The voice was angry, and clearly female. Eric turned and saw her at the end, taking a sip from her beer as she watched the game. She caught him looking at her and grinned. "Sorry, I can't stand to see the 'Burgh fall to Philly."
"It's certainly a crime." Eric agreed with a nod and a half grin. "I'd prefer watching the Bruins fall to the Canadiens."
"Oh you are not a Hab fan." The girl narrowed her eyes at him and slid over to sit next to him. "They're the worst."
"Nah, just like seeing Boston knocked down a peg." Eric took a sip of beer.
"I'd rather see Philly knocked to the ground and taking the Capitals with them." The girl muttered darkly, eyes sliding back up to the television. As she watched the game Eric got a good look at her. She was pretty; slim, with black hair that fell straight down her back and bangs that swept her forehead, a pair of stunning green eyes that followed the movements of the skaters carefully, calculatingly.
"Who's your team?" Eric asked finally, getting a shrug.
"Depends on the mood or the game, but primarily those idiots." She gestured to Pittsburgh missing another shot on the television. "But I've been to a Bruins game or two." She shrugged. "Living in Boston you have to learn hockey."
"I'm loyal to our Anaheim Ducks." Eric sipped his beer thoughtfully as Philly nearly got the puck past the Penguin goalie. "What brings you to California?" And to this tiny Sports bar off the beaten track of Silver Hills he added mentally. The curiosity about this girl was new; usually he got annoyed if anyone spoke to him while he was getting a little dinner and a beer.
"Grew up here, I'm in Boston for college." She brushed her bangs absently as she watched the game again. "I like the snow, but I miss California." She drained her beer and looked at the bottle before setting it down.
"Want another?" Brennan asked her with a flirtatious grin. It was surprising to have to suppress the violent urge to throw the beer bottle in the kid's face.
"Please, and one of those burgers." She pointed to where a couple businessmen were having late night burgers and beer while discussing something jovially.
"You got it sweetheart." Brennan flashed a grin before looking to Eric.
"You?"
"Same please dozen mild wings instead of fries though." Eric gave his usual and Brennan went to the back to get the order to the chef, who happened to be the owner of the bar, Killian O'Reilly, who was also Brennan's father.
"Poor kid thinks he has a chance." The girl snickered and looked back to the game.
"He's 20." Eric quirked an eyebrow at her.
"I'm almost 22." She raised an eyebrow. "Was that your way of carding me? Because he did that earlier, read all my stats too. Creeper." She rolled her eyes and got back to the game in time to see the Penguins tuck one tightly in the corner of the Philadelphia net. "Nice!" She exclaimed, picking up the beer Brennan delivered and offered it to Eric as a toast. They drank to the goal and watched the replays as the game went into overtime.
"I wasn't carding you." Eric frowned curiously watching her.
"Good." She sipped the beer. "You got a name?"
"Eric."
"I'm Rachael." She nodded with a smile. "Nice to meet you." Her eyes went back up to the game and Eric's met those of the man standing at the other end of the bar, arms folded over his chest, glaring at him. Now this was amusing.
"Think they'll take it?" He asked, taking his eyes from Brennan and looking at the continuing game.
"They'd better." Rachael set down her beer and leaned back. "If they don't win this one, they'll have a tough chance of getting into the playoffs."
Her actual knowledge of hockey had him floored. The last girl he'd tried to introduce to the world of sports had looked at him as though he was the most evil person on the planet, and refused to even touch a beer. Needless to say they didn't last long, though she was probably the one that lasted the longest in the past four years. This girl pointed out specific players with ease, detailing their strengths and a random fact about a few. By the time their burgers arrived they were deep in a philosophical debate about the best hockey players of their time, Rachael staunchly supporting Mario Lemieux while he defended Wayne Gretzky, two players that deserved their places in hockey hall of fame. She stole a wing from his plate and practically moaned in approval.
"I haven't had good wings in ages." She snatched another one, receiving a frown for her trouble. She ignored him and ate it, even licking her fingers in ecstasy.
"Get your own."
"Why, yours are right there." Her saucy grin was irresistible, but she didn't take any more wings, taking time to focus on her burger and fries. The game was in its second extra period by the time their food dishes were stacked neatly to be taken away, but Brennan seemed to have lost interest in pursuing Rachael in favor of a suspicious looking blonde in skimpy clothing. Eric made a mental note to look into her track record later at work, a small side job the Silver Guardians helped the Silver Hills PD with as they saw fit. It was late by the time the game ended with a magnificent power play goal by the same young Penguin that had missed earlier.
"Guess you can sleep tonight now." Eric grinned at her as she laughed and nodded.
"Like a baby." She agreed and pulled out her wallet.
"No, I'll pay. It's nice to have some company." He pulled out his own and threw a few bills on the bar. Rachael looked at it for a second before looking up with a genuine smile.
"Well thanks then." She moved off the stool and looked straight into his eyes. "I could go for a cup of coffee, what do you say?"
"Sure." He moved after her, following her outside into the night. It was a chilly night for California, causing Rachael to pull on a sweatshirt as she walked with him. She didn't say a word about their destination or why they were walking someplace in the pitch blackness of late fall. Their conversation was light, moving to football and where their loyalties lay to baseball and the same story.
"I'm sorry, but I have to side with the Red Sox." Rachael laughed as he groaned.
"God, could you get any more East Coast? LA Dodgers." He shook his head and turned into his yard, cutting across the grass to unlock the front door. She followed him inside, still defending her team, currently in its 83rd year of being cursed. He took off his jacket and laid it over a chair before turning back to her where she stood in his cramped kitchen. "Decaf or regular?" He asked, praying he had both. He knew he had regular, but decaf was an entirely different story.
"I don't want coffee." She said quietly, eyes darkening rapidly. It took a second for the words to sink in. Coffee didn't mean coffee, it mean the other kind of 'coffee'. He stepped closer to her, heart beating rapidly as she stripped off her sweatshirt. His arms slid around her waist, bringing her face to his with a finality he couldn't explain.
It was like she'd lit a fire in his stomach, and the only way to put it out was to get more of her. His hand made it to the back of her head and he pressed her closer to him, the other keeping a firm grip on her waist. Her hands found his neck and she moved forward, pushing him toward the other rooms in his house, and the bedroom. Stumbling through the darkness, they made it to his room, not bothering with any inside lights, the faint glow from the street lights outside enough with the window shade open.
He backed up and pulled his t-shirt off, but she pushed him back so that he fell on the bed, sitting on the edge looking up at her. Eyes locked on his, she removed her shirt over her head and threw it to the floor. Her pants were off in a second, leaving her in her very sexy underwear. At least it was sexy to him as she stepped forward and into his arms. He threw her down on the bed, silencing her laughter with his lips.
For the first time in three months the alarm went off, startling him awake. Disoriented, he shut it off and looked around for a few seconds. He turned to climb out of bed when he caught sight of the naked woman lying face down next to him. Her back was completely bare, the sheet pushed down to her waist, her hair was fanned over and around her head in sleep, arms tucked under her head. Taking advantage of the moment, he took a long look at the soft skin from her shoulders to the top of her hips, and around her sides, catching a glimpse of what lay underneath. He slid from under the sheets and pulled on his jeans to make the short trek from his bedroom to the kitchen, systematically putting together coffee, belatedly remembering to add more water for the extra person.
Damn. It had been a long time since he'd had a one night stand. Or slept with someone he didn't really know, or even brought a girl to his house. The whole idea of a girl sleeping in his bed was ludicrous, but she was there, and naked. A grin passed on his face as he thought about exactly how little sleep he'd gotten compared with how rested and calm he felt.
"Good morning to you too." Rachael came through the door, smoothing down her sleep mussed hair with her hand, the other arm pulling down the long t-shirt she'd thrown on, his.
"Hey, want some coffee?" He offered, pointing at the brewing pot.
"This time I do want some coffee." She grinned like a child getting caught doing something they knew they shouldn't. Eric wasn't sure how to respond to her obvious flirting and dug through a cabinet to find a coffee cup, producing one and turning to set it near the coffee maker. But she was standing between him and it, a look of amusement in her eyes. "You know what your problem is?" She asked in a sultry tone, stepping closer and closer, moving her hands to his chest. "You need to loosen up." Her hands caught his face and neck, pulling them down to meet hers.
He wasn't sure if the coffee cup made it to the counter before he released his hand, but the clatter wasn't a crash, and even if it had been he was too busy enveloping himself in Rachael to care. Taking heed of her words, he slid his hands under her buttocks and heaved her up to the counter so her head was slightly above his. Laughing she pressed her lips to his again, running her hands through his hair and holding on tightly, stopping to breathe, forehead against his. "How much time until you have to go?" She asked softly.
"Enough." He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom again, throwing her down on the bed and climbing on top of her. After round three or maybe it was four, Eric wasn't entirely sure, he dressed for work, resigned to go, knowing it'd be more suspicious if he called in sick to spend the day in bed. God he wanted to. That was a petrifying thought, but normal he supposed. The physical relationship he had with Rachael was just that, physical, and one he hadn't had in a very long time, it was probably just normal he didn't want to end it.
"What are you doing tonight?" Rachael stood in the doorway, using her fingers to untangle her hair, eyes focused on that task, not looking at him. Eric stared through the mirror he was brushing his teeth with to see behind him. She was asking? What?
"Nothing." His mouth spoke before his brain could tell it to shut up. And his hand was now handing her a comb.
"Oh thanks." She ran the comb through her hair, taming the mass of raven colored hair that was now fanned around her face. "If you'll let me I'd like to pay you back for dinner." She looked up.
"You don't have to." He was suspicious now, she had an ulterior motive.
"I can cook." She offered with a grin. "I don't usually sleep with guys if they pay for my dinner. It's my way of not feeling like a complete slut."
"You're not a slut." Eric was confused now, and the only words his brain could come up with weren't as effective out loud as he thought they were.
"Thanks, but you've known me for less than twelve hours, you couldn't know that." Rachael moved behind him, making him rinse out his mouth and turn to face her. "If you never want to see me again I'll go, but I'd like to make you dinner tonight. Or at least let me buy you groceries, I peeked in your fridge for the milk."
"Ok." He frowned, but she smiled and stood on her toes to kiss him before leaving the room. After finishing dressing and telling himself he wasn't an idiot for accepting a second date, if you could call it that, with a girl he barely knew. "Do you need a ride?"
"Just back to the bar if you don't mind." Rachael was pulling on her hooded sweatshirt again, pulling out a set of keys from her jean pockets and transferring them to another. They rode the few minutes to the bar in silence, but the second they got into the parking lot Eric put his SUV in park and got out to examine her car.
"A '69 mustang?" He asked her in surprise.
"Mint condition." Rachael nodded. "Didn't look like that when I got her." She touched the hood affectionately. "In case you hadn't noticed my hobbies are slightly less girly than most." She laughed. "I got a manual and rebuilt the engine from scrap and what I could find in those you pull it yards."
"Impressive." Eric commented. "For a girl." He added, eyes challenging her to respond. Rachael raised her eyebrows and unlocked the driver's side, getting in and leaning over, talking loudly through the closed passenger's window. "See you around 8." She revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, turning left and was out of sight in seconds. It was at that moment Eric realized his biggest mistake of the last few hours. He didn't know her last name.
Across town another man sat on the steps of a large white mansion, waiting patiently. Several things had cued him to the fact the person he'd meant to meet and take out to breakfast wasn't yet there. He leaned on his knees waiting patiently, not worried in the least for her. She could always take care of herself. And his faith in her was proved well placed as her classic car pulled into the driveway and swung right in front of him. He moved to his feet.
"Do I want to know where you were last night?" He frowned as she got out of the car and closed the door, grinning at him.
"Probably not." She walked into his arms and hugged him tightly. "You've always been protective, Mr. Mom." She patted his back and pulled away, and popped her trunk, pulling out a large duffle bag.
"Could you travel any less like a girl?" He frowned at her.
"I could ride an old Harley with saddlebags." She offered with a shrug, letting him take the bag from her as they went into the house. Still early morning, there was no one around to greet them.
"I'm sure the world appreciates you having enough room for the usual hygienic supplies."
"It's the least I can do."
"I suggest you sterilize after last night." He frowned at her as she laughed. "What have I told you about sleeping with random guys?"
"A lot." She put his face between her hands. "Thank you so much for caring enough to yell at me." Patting his cheek, she turned for the stairs and started up them. "I've told you as many times that I'm always careful, and use protection." She waved her hand behind her absently.
"I can still worry."
"God now you sound exactly like Mom." She turned and narrowed her eyes at him.
"No, being Mom would be, 'Rachael Vivien Collins I am your mother and am allowed to worry about you as much as I want'." Wes grinned as he imitated their mother to his sister. He threw her bag on her bed and picked up the picture frame that stood on the bedstand. It was a family picture, their parents standing together, a picture perfect couple that wasn't always so perfect in real life, their two children seated in front of them, perfectly groomed for the occasion. Thinking, Wes estimated he was about twelve in the picture, making Rachael eleven, neither child looking thrilled at the prospect of standing for the photo, but now it was one of the few pictures they had of their mother in the last few months of her life.
"I miss her too." Rachael murmured as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. "And no, sex is not my way of coping with her death." She smacked Wes as he grinned. It was eerie how she knew what he was thinking sometimes. "Now, you're going to leave me alone while I shower and then you're taking me to breakfast."
"Yes ma'am." He mock saluted her and went down the stairs, scoping through the house to see if their father was anywhere to be seen. Mrs. Bailey, the housekeeper informed him that Alan Collins had left two hours prior for work, and wouldn't be home until late. The middle aged woman smiled as she watched Wes climb the stairs, she'd been a housekeeper/nanny for the two kids after their mother died unexpectedly when they were young. She loved seeing the adults they'd become, even if they occasionally made questionable decisions.
"Done yet?" Wes banged on the bathroom door.
"Almost." Rachael came from the room down the hall, dressed in clean clothes, drying her hair with a thick towel, grinning at her brother. They were downstairs in a few minutes, and, after a short battle over who was driving, Wes took the wheel and drove directly to a small diner on the outskirts of Silver Hills that their mother had taken them to when they were growing up.
"You look just like her you know." Wes commented as they pulled into the parking lot. Rachael was quiet and buttoned one of the buttons on her teal plaid shirt absently. They got a booth and slid onto the opposite sides, making sure the waitress got them coffee in a timely manner.
"I wonder what would be different if she was still alive." Rachael murmured softly, rubbing her finger along the edge of the cup.
"You wouldn't have gone to Boston." Wes grinned and sipped his own cup. "Dad wouldn't be so bitter; I'd probably have a successful job."
"Well let's not get carried away." Rachael grinned and brushed her bangs across her face. Wes rolled his eyes and tried to ignore her, but she continued. "Seriously, you majored in business, but you hate business and are now refusing to live at home now let alone take over BioLabs." She shook her head.
"When are you graduating?" Wes tried to change the subject, getting an embarrassed wince from his sister.
"I did. In August."
"What? That was eight months ago." Wes frowned at her as she shrugged.
"I didn't want to come back yet. Hell Wes, I stayed summers to get ahead in all my courses, took full class loads for three straight years to graduate early." Rachael muttered. "I've been substitute teaching in Boston."
"Hate me that much?" Wes frowned.
"No." Rachael sighed. "It's hard to explain, getting out from under Dad's thumb is heaven. I'm sure you've gotten a taste of that." She looked at him meaningfully.
"How'd you figure that out?" He signed in resignation, pausing their conversation long enough for them both to order their breakfasts.
"Your room is clean." Rachael lifted a single eyebrow, getting a hearty chuckle from Wes. "Where are you living? And with who, you can't be paying on your own."
"My four friends and I are living in the old Clocktower." He shrugged and looked to the bar. "You didn't have to come out you know."
"I know." Rachael muttered, glancing out the window at the dark storm clouds. It was barely eight in the morning, and threatening to rain. "But he's the only parent I have left; it seemed cruel to just ignore his near-death." Her shoulders shrugged. "But now he's back to normal."
"Not quite normal, Rach." Wes admitted. "He's been softening up. Weird events going on and all."
"What's with the Silver Guardians? Aren't the rangers good enough for him?" The question seemed odd to Wes, but it was a natural question to be completely fair.
"Pretty much, he basically created them to make a quick buck." Wes scowled, his mind going to the moody current leader of the Guardians, but banishing him for now. "I think that's changing a little."
"Progress." Rachael snorted into her coffee.
"It's a step." Wes frowned. "Have you seen Grand-mére lately?"
"Couple days ago." Rachael shrugged at the change of topic. "She sounds good, misses you. Always were her favorite."
"What can I say?" Wes grinned widely, chuckling. Rachael rolled her eyes.
"I learn French for those people and they still love you. Cher Dieu." She exclaimed with false frustration. The waitress set their foot before them and the conversation turned into the kind of conversations adult siblings had; reminiscing about their childhoods, telling light hearted stories, and arguing. Mostly arguing.