AN: hello all,

This story was one of two stories written mostly for the purpose of overcoming writer's block for my main story, Murphy's law, and turned into a way for me to express several things I was thinking about. as such this story won't last very long, two chapters and that's it. Expect the next one latter next week.

BE ADVISED: this story will get intense.

The first chapter is mostly fluff, as that was the part I wrote mostly for practice and to take my mind off other stories, even though it contains a little bit of depression and a couple of PTSD sequences, but the next chapter will deal with several more intense themes.

I'm no fan of trigger warnings, but that list includes PTSD, depression, anxiety, atempted suicide, and mental hospitalization. I don't believe any of it will cross the M boundary, but if you aren't willing to read any of that, don't continue past the first chapter.

Normaly you'll find callous jokes in my author's notes, but trust me, those won't show up here. PTSD is a subject close to my heart, and I hope I do it justice in this story.


"Welcome home Willow," were the first words she heard upon returning to the place she had once called home.

Somehow those words infuriated her. Mainly because, until a few weeks ago, her name would have been corporal Mathews, ODST, not just simply Willow.

Returning from the Human-Covenant War had been, needless to say, a big change for her. Her CO had once said that every soldier left a piece of themselves on the battlefield. She had left a great deal more than that.

The event flashed before her eyes once again; an orbital drop, a hard impact, sprinting forward, tripping and falling in the chaos of war. She looked up in horror as she saw a plasma mortar streak towards her. She scrambled as fast as she could out of it's way but wasn't nearly fast enough. The round impacted as her eyes snapped shut and her life flashed before her eyes, and when she opened them again she found herself wishing to God the round had simply hit her head on.

She crawled away from the crater left by the round using her elbows to drag herself and screaming in pain. For several minutes she couldn't bring herself to look down at her legs. She knew what she would find, and when she did she was barely prepared to see her own legs cauterized off at the knee.

She opened her eyes and blinked hard, trying not to show any indication of the horrible vision she had just had to the smiling woman standing before her. She forced a smile and nodded to the woman who was here to welcome her home. It was her own mother after all, and there was no need to give her any more cause to worry for her than she already had.

Despite the fact that her mother had tried so hard to be kind to her and hide her concern for her, she had failed. She hadn't cried when she returned home, simply smiled and welcomed her back, trying her best not to look at her new robotic, prosthetic legs, or the many scars that now criss-crossed her entire body. She had done everything in her power to make it seem like she was simply coming home from a long deployment and everything was back to normal, but her demeanor was as far from normal as it could possibly be.

Willow still saw the concern in her eyes, and watched the way she treated her. She volunteered to open doors for her, pick up things she dropped, and carry things for her, including her heavy duffle bag that she herself was better equipped to carry, as honestly, the prosthetic legs had made her physically stronger than she ever had been before, but still she treated her like an invalid, and it felt awful.

She was a UNSC marine for god's sake, and an ODST at that. She should be the one doing the heavy lifting, not her mother. It was infuriating the way people treated her so gently now, almost as if she might break if they touched her, just because of an injury.

Still, she was polite to her mother, and hugged her, thanking her for all she had done. Her mother had been there for her through thick and thin, and had been worried sick about her when she had joined the Marines, especially since her father had been lost to the war a couple years back, but she still supported her regardless.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay sweetie?" Asked her mother when she pulled away, still gripping her shoulders tightly.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry mom, I just need a moment alone."

Her mother smiled painfully at her once again before releasing her soldiers.

"Take care Willow," she said, her voice more quiet than usual as she turned to leave.

Willow stood there for a moment longer, watching her walk away, before turning into her entirely too clean and brand new apartment that certainly did not feel like home. She had bought an apartment on base at UNSC camp Pendleton on the California coast of the URNA. She'd have to stay close to the base for physical therapy appointments with the on base prosthetist, or else she would have found somewhere far away from here to go.

Feeling like an invalid in front of so many fellow marines was something that embarrassed her beyond belief. She had never felt as though anyone that was combat wounded had anything to be ashamed of, but this was personal, and it effected her way more than it probably should have.

She walked into the apartment's small bathroom and splashed her face with water, trying to clear her thoughts, only to be confronted by a mirror.

Her legs hadn't been the only part of her damaged in the blast. A large piece of shrapnel had left a scar that crossed over the orbit of her left eye. Had the shrapnel cut a fraction if an inch deeper, it would have blinded her. Her shoulder-length auburn hair hid part of a scar that ran along most of her right cheek, and both of her well-built arms had a myriad of scars from where shrapnel had penetrated her armor.

She grimaced at the sight of her own form, and quickly turned away, slumping forward against the bathroom counter and burying her face into her hands.

How am I supposed to face the world if I can barely look at myself?

She wasn't so much embarrassed about her appearance as she was the weakness it portrayed. She was damaged and utterly useless to the Marine Corps, the organization she had given her life to.

She sat there for a good long while, not daring to make a sound, although she had the urge to cry or scream a couple of times. The realization that this would never change set in for her; She would always be broken, she would always be treated differently, she would never be the proud Marine she had once been ever again.

She only stirred from her silence when she heard a small knock at the door.

Willow pulled her hands from her face and stood reluctantly. She honestly didn't want to face whoever was at her door right now, but she would have to face her fear some time or another.

She opened the door slowly to find a smiling, black haired Marine holding a package and a compad.

"Corporal Mathews? Package for you."

She nodded and said nothing, not even meeting his gaze as she accepted the compad and signed for the package, but when she went to thrust the compad back into his hands, she looked up and found he was still smiling at her rather intently.

He was looking her dead in the face, which was odd as her scarred arms were clearly visible given the tank top she was wearing, and although her cargo pants hid them, he had undoubtably heard the annoying sound of actuators and servos moving her prosthetic legs, so why was he looking at her scared face with such a kind look rather than one of disgust or sympathy as she has seen from so many others?

It didn't matter. She simply wanted him gone.

"It's impolite to stare Marine," she said bluntly.

He blushed and examined his shoelaces for a moment. "Oh, uh, sorry, it's just..."

"It's just what?" She spat, cutting him off. "I know why you're staring at me so spit it out and get it over with."

He sighed. "I didn't mean to be rude," he said, his tone surprisingly apologetic, "but you're beautiful. I really couldn't help myself."

She glared intensely at him. How dare he mock her in such a cruel way? Who could be so cold hearted as to make fun of her to her face?

"You know what Marine? I think it's time you left," she said, turning to slam the door on him.

To her surprise his hand shot out and stopped the door before it could close.

"Wait, I'm sorry," he said apologetically, "what did I do?"

She glared at him more intensely. "What did you do?" She asked in fury.

She jabbed a finger at the scar that covered her eye. "You came to my own home and mocked me to my face," she growled, "I have half a mind to deck you right now."

She balled both her hands into fists and gave him an angry death glare that could have obliterated a planet.

He looked surprised for a moment at her reaction, as if completely not anticipating it, and then as if the fact her scars existed had suddenly dawned on him he rolled up the sleeve of his jacket and showed her a scar that ran the length of his tricep.

"You really think a little old scar like that one is such a big deal?" He asked with a smile, "I'm a Marine too you know. I've seen my fair share of nasty injuries."

She kept her intense glare locked on him silently for a moment longer, looking for any sign he was lying to her. If he was putting her on she couldn't be held responsible for what she would do to him.

"I'm not mocking you," he said, meeting her intense glare with a kind, honest smile. "I'm sorry if it sounded like that."

He extended his hand for her to shake. "I'm Sean, Sean Wilson. Nice to meet you."

She scanned him over once again, before conceding and shaking his hand. She frowned slightly. By the look on his face and the kindness in his tone she could tell he meant what he said, but her scars had a way of repelling people, and she felt it impossible that anyone could find her beautiful after all that had happened to her.

"Look, Sean," she said, her tone a bit more relaxed, "I'm sorry for lashing out at you like that."

"It's fine," he said, "not the first time I've been rejected by a pretty girl."

Her glared returned, although slightly less intense.

"Okay, I know you're trying to be nice to me, but don't over do it," she said, the tension in her voice rising slightly once again.

He laughed. "And since when were Marines not straight shooters? I'm not just trying to be nice to you. I really meant that."

Now it was her turn to examine her shoe laces. He couldn't really mean what he was saying, right? She honestly couldn't say she'd found anyone scarred like herself attractive before, so why would he?

Personally, he seemed like a nice guy, but she just wanted to be left alone right now.

"Hey, I've got to go," he spoke, as if he had just read her mind, "the CO has me running some errands. I work in the quartermaster's department. Maybe you could stop by sometime?"

The look she gave him was not hopeful. "Yeah, maybe," she responded dryly, and shut the door on him.

She read the label on the package he had handed her. It was from an old friend from high school, probably a care package of some kind, but she didn't even bother to open it.

She flopped down on her bed, slipping off her prosthetics and closing her eyes. There was many parts of life she would have to learn to move on with, but that could wait. Sleep was what she need most now.


Her rest was fitful, to say the least. She woke up screaming, dripping sweat, and tangled under the covers from thrashing in her sleep. She collapsed backwards and took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She had once again relived the awful feeling of losing a pice of herself, seeing it in all it's horrible, vivid detail. Every part of her ached and she felt no more rested than she did the day before. She rolled over so that she was face down in the pillow and cried. Crying alone made her feel miserable and weak, but it was all she could do to halt the painful memories.

As soon as she was able she headed for the shower, allowing herself to collapse against it's wall and let the steamy, hot spray wash over her.

Showering helped to alleviate some of the stress, but she still felt like absolute crap. She needed to get back in the fight to take her mind off of this, and fortunately, she knew just how to do that. The base had a state-of-the-art war games combat simulator that she was certain she could call in a favor to use.

She dressed, and threw open the door to jog to the base, and was a little bit surprised by what she found on the door.

It was a small piece of actual paper, something she hadn't seen in years, with Sean's name and phone number on it.

In case you take me up on my offer, it read towards the bottom.

She almost wadded it up and threw it away, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to. She jammed it into her pocket before taking off for the base once again.

Fortunately, not many people were supposed to use the simulator that day, so she was able to get a time slot fairly quickly. When the Marine at the desk asked her if she thought it was a good idea for her to be doing this, it only took one glare to convince him that she should be.

She suited up in a suit of ODST battle armor, entered a simulated drop pod, and flipped on a string of difficulty modifiers. As the round started, the simulator buffeted the pod to make it feel like she was actually falling, then jerked it upward as it "hit" the ground. The door popped open, and she dashed onto the virtual reality battlefield. Taking cover before the round started.

"Set, start. Tough luck, famine, catch, black eye, on. Bonus round. Good luck," said the war games AI announcer in it's deep, smug voice, and she proceeded to fight through wave after wave after wave of simulated Covenant, robotically taking down as many as she could.

The waves became progressively harder and harder with the simulated enemies becoming stronger and stronger, until at last she heard a sound she never wished to hear again in her life. The ghostly, unmistakeable sound of a simulated wraith tank dropping onto the battlefield.

She began to hyperventilate, images of that day streaking across her vision and brought her to state of complete panic. She tried to convince herself it was just a holographic projection, but it was no use. Panic set in, and she was frozen in place as a simulated plasma mortar streaked towards her. It impacted, the concussive force knocking her five meters backwards and slamming her against a wall.

"No lives left. Round over," said the war games announcer, and the realistic terrain and holographic Covenant faded to a white room with hydraulically raised surfaces. A corpsman rushed out to see if she was ok.

"Corporal Mathews, are you ok?" He asked, but she didn't respond. She was still breathing raggedly and trying to focus on anything but that tank.

She couldn't get it out of her brain, the hot plasma having seared it into her memory.

She pushed the corpsman off of her and stood shakily, determined to walk to the locker room under her own power. She wouldn't allow herself to feel week, she wouldn't allow herself time to grieve, after all, how was she ever going to move on with life if these stupid memories kept doing this to her?

She needed a better distraction.

She stripped her armor quickly, and put on athletic clothes to go for a run. It didn't matter how tired she was, she would do anything to push that stupid memory out of her mind.

When she exited the locker room only one person stood in the observation area of the simulator. It was Sean, and he had the same kind smile on his face he did yesterday. In no small way, that infuriated her.

"Hey Willow. That was a helluva fight. Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

She glared at him. "Same place you and everybody else here did. Now what are you doing here?"

He didn't drop his grin for a moment. "Oh, nothing. I saw you walk in here and wasn't doing anything at the time, so I decided I might as well cheer you on, and maybe ask you what your plans were for tonight?"

Wow, he still thinks this is going to work.

"In you dreams jarhead," she spat.

He looked visibly disappointed. "So, you won't even think about it?"

She glared daggers at him. He got the message and turned to leave, but as he was leaving, Willow began to feel a bit guilty about turning him down like that. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and he hadn't given her any reason to say no so harshly.

Determined not to ruin her tough exterior, she walked slowly after him.

"Hey," she called after him, not taking even the slightest bit of edge out of her tone.

He spun around and looked at her, grinning once again as if he could see right though her tough demeanor and tone. She hated that. She had become this way for a reason, so that she would never be hurt by anything or anyone, alien or human ever again, and for some reason his gentle smile made her feel vulnerable.

"I'll think about it," she continued after a moment, "but only if you can keep up with me on a run."

He nodded, looking rather confident in the face of her proposition. "You've got yourself a deal."

little did he know how much of a challenge the run would be. She smirked and took off out the door, with Sean running as fast as he could after her.

Despite her disability, Sean could barely keep up with her. Before she was wounded she had already been the fastest in her company, and now with the enhanced speed and endurance afforded to her by robotic legs, she could outpace just about anyone in the Marine Corps.

She ran far into the hills above the camp, with Sean nearly sprinting to keep up. When they arrived at a cliff overlooking the sea Willow stopped, and surprisingly, Sean wasn't far behind.

He collapsed against a tree, completely out of breath and dripping sweat.

"So, is that what you call keeping up with me?" She said with a smirk.

He didn't respond for several seconds, still desperately trying to catch his breath.

"Hey, I kept up with you just fine," he said before pausing for another breath, "a deal is a deal."

She laughed. "What deal? I said I'd think about it. Honestly, I don't think that performance gave me much to think about at all."

She sat down on a rock facing the ocean, and slowly but surely, Sean moved to join her.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He asked, staring out at the view.

"I didn't come here for the scenery," she said sharply.

"Oh really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Then why did you?"

"I came here to ask you what you see in me," she said sharply, "I'm fucking broken. Can you not see that?"

He smiled kindly at her. "What makes you think you're broken?"

She really hated this act of his, particularly she hated the way he was acting as though he hadn't even seen any of the injuries she had. He wasn't blind. She shouldn't have to suffer the indignity of explain this to him.

Instead of the angry rebuke she had thought about giving him, she found herself staring at the ground in front of her, embarrassed by her disability.

To her surprise, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, just because you're injured doesn't mean you're broken. You've got more life in you than most do. I've never seen anything like what you did in that war games match. You fought more Covenant singlehandedly than a whole squad of Marines could have handled. If anyone is living proof of how someone can go through hell and back and move on, it's you."

She wanted to smile at his comment, it really had been quite sweet, but she couldn't break her cold personality just yet, it was just too much of a risk to leave herself vulnerable to rejection and hurt.

She wrenched his hand from her shoulder.

"Don't touch me," she said indignantly.

He laughed. "Sorry, I didn't realize trying to comfort you was such a bad thing."

"I don't need comforting," she snarled, "and don't act like you can say any of those things about me. You barely know me."

"Well, I offered to get to know you a half hour ago, and you turned me down."

She rolled her eyes. This guy really did seem to care about her, but how could she be sure? How could she trust him enough to see any of her truly broken self? Not just her damaged body, but what the trauma had done to her mind.

"Come on Willow, just one night. That's all I ask."

She sighed, and allowed some of the edge to leave her voice. "Fine, one night."

His face lit up with a smile that, although she would never admit it, was quite enjoyable to see. It felt good that somebody was that happy to have her agree to a date.

She wrote down her phone number for him on a sheet of paper and handed it to him with a grin.

"So what did you have in mind?" She asked.

He grinned. "You'll just have to wait and see."


Sean's house wasn't far from the base. It wasn't to terribly far from the beach, and seemed to be kept in a lot better shape than most other houses of it's kind.

Willow walked up to the door slowly and knocked, not really sure what to expect.

When he opened the door Willow was surprised to find him in a shirt, tie, and dress pants.

Taking a moment to actually look at him a little less critically made her realized that he actually looked good. His eyes were bright, especially as they were silhouetted against the relative dark of the twilight. The only problem was that she was dressed in a simple t-shirt and cargo pants, a far cry how he had cleaned up. She tried to convince herself that she was dressed like this because she didn't care about this "date," she was just here to humor Sean and he would no doubt reject her just as she expected him to, and she would feel nothing for it, but she still felt a little embarrassed in spite of herself.

"Hey Willow. Come in." He said with a smile, as if not noticing how she was dressed.

She rubbed the back of her neck, still feeling a bit embarrassed. "Hey, I didn't know we were going any place fancy. I would've dressed better."

He shook his head. "What are you talking about? You look great. Besides, we're not going anywhere unless you want to. Come on, I've got a surprise for you and I'm sure you'll like it."

She smiled weakly at his comment. As much as she hated to admit it, it did feel nice to be treated as kindly as he treated her then.

He gestured for her to enter, and reluctantly she complied.

The rest of his house was just as clean and simple as the outside, with the notable exception of the kitchen, which looked like a professional kitchen. Considering the high end expensive appliances and the meager salary of a Marine, he must have sunk half a year's pay into it.

She followed him out into the houses relatively small backyard, and was surprised, and just a little bit impressed at what he and set up for her. He had set up a candle lit dinner under the stars. The food looked amazing, and she had to admit he had really put some time and thought into this.

"Wow. Who knew a jarhead like you could be so disgustingly romantic?" she said with a grin.

He laughed, and Willow sat down to examine the food he had prepared. It was just steak, but it was prepared like it had come from a five star restaurant. It smelled amazing and tasted even better. A glass of wine and a couple of side dishes she had never seen before sat beside the meal as well

"And you cook too. Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"Culinary school," he said with a smile, "before I was a Marine I was running some big shot restaurant in new Phoenix, but getting drafted ended that."

She nodded, and looked down at her plate once again.

The smile began to fade from her face as doubt once agin crossed her mind.

Why is he doing all this for me? She thought. It's not like I've treated him well, or given him any reason to want to be nice to me, much less ask me out and make a fancy dinner for me.

Most of the rest of the night was spent in painfully slow conversation. Sean didn't seem to have an end to the amount of questions he wanted to ask her; about herself, her life, her family, anything he could think of. She didn't make it easy on him to get answers, mostly keeping her answers to yes, no, and maybe the odd complete sentence in response. She didn't ask anything in return, and he didn't attempt to say anything about himself at all. Honestly it looked more like an interrogation than an actual conversation.

It truly wasn't that she didn't like him, or that she would get any enjoyment out of seeing his well planned evening ruined for him, it was that she just couldn't bring herself to open up and trust him. The fancy dinner, the kind words, the at least twenty times he managed to tell her she was beautiful, even though she tried to make it as hard as possible for him, it all just felt fake.

Maybe it was because she didn't feel she deserved this kind of attention. She had had more than a few male admirers before she became a Marine, but even before she was wounded no one had ever gone through this amount of trouble to make her feel good about herself, which begged the question, what did he want?

As if he had read her mind, he sighed and looked dejectedly downward at his plate, having just finished another question he hoped would start a conversation, looking more than a little discouraged by her relative silence.

"Sean," she said, trying to remove any of the sharpness her voice normally carried.

"Yes?" he responded, just as dejectedly as he looked.

"Sean, what is all this?" She asked in honesty. "Why are you doing all this for me? You're a nice guy, and you could have so many girls better than me, so please, just tell me what you want from me and get it over with?"

Willow wasn't prepared for how hurt Sean looked once those words left her lips, and she immediately wished she could take them back. The sadness in his eyes made her realize immediately that he hadn't done this for any reason other than to make her happy, and now she felt incredibly guilty over having said that.

"Willow, I don't want anything from you," he said, the disappointment in his voice painfully obvious. "If it seemed that way I'm truly sorry. I simply wanted to make you happy, and honestly, I don't see why you think for some reason I'm trying to mock you and that I secretly think you're horribly ugly. You're not, and I meant every word I said about you. If you want to leave now and forget this night ever happened, please do, but just know I wasn't being dishonest. You really are beautiful."

He stood and picked up his plate, heading for the kitchen and not meeting her gaze for a moment.

Her heart sank, and she quickly rushed to stop him.

"Sean, wait," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

He spun around, and once again she was confronted by his awful look of hurt directed straight at her.

She sighed. Honestly she wasn't sure if she was ready to fully take down her walls and open herself up to the possibility of being hurt, but it was what Sean had done for her, and he had certainly been burned for it. The least she could do was do the same for him.

"Sean, I'm so sorry." She said in honesty. "I didn't want this night to end like this, but I'm just a bitter, arrogant fool so couldn't see you were just trying to be nice to me. If you want me to leave, I will, but I just wanted to say I'm sorry for ruining your evening. It really was very kind of you to do all this."

She braced herself for whatever he might say, and ready to accept whatever it was, but to her surprise a truly forgiving look washed over his face, and he smiled at her gently.

"You've been through a lot recently, haven't you Willow?"

She nodded, a single, small tear forming in her eye as she once again was met with flashes of memory from that fateful day.

"I don't blame you for being apprehensive. Stuff like that can be hard on you in more ways than one."

He had no idea how true his words rang to her. Just the mention of it brought back painful memories that she could hardly bare to remember. Numbing herself was no use, she had already ripped down too many walls tonight. She looked at the floor with a sad expression, trying to hide the pain in her eyes.

Sean noticed though, and he placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, and rather push him away, she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him. She refused to allow herself to cry over the memories she was experiencing, no matter how bad she wanted too, and his embrace was about all that was stopping her from doing so.

"It's ok Willow, let it go," he said, his grip on her incredibly protective and his voice crushingly tender. She allowed a couple of years to run down her face, which quickly turned into a silent stream of hot tears.

Being held by him was nice, but she was the first to break off the embrace, still wanting to maintain some semblance of dignity out of all this.

"You aren't a fancy dinner kind of girl anyway, are you?" He asked with a smile, as though trying to distract her from the pain.

She shook her head in the negative, allowing a weak smile to cross her face, and he laughed.

"Alright, how about a movie instead?"

For a moment she felt guilty about his kindness. She had just chewed him out. Did she really deserve the length he was going through to comfort her and get her to stay?

Sensing how she was feeling, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, we've both had a long day. How about we just forget any of that ever happened and start this over again?"

She smiled and nodded, sitting down on the couch next to him. He let her pick a movie, and seemed only momentarily surprised when she picked an action movie.

She smiled at him. "What did you expect? A chick flick? I hate sappy love stories."

He smiled right back. "Glad your sense of humor has returned."

Initially they gave each other some distance. Willow really wasn't sure wether she wanted to be close to him yet, more out of guilt than anything, but eventually he managed to inch close enough to slip and arm around her, and pulled her close to him.

Normally she would have rebuked him for such an action and made fun of him for making such a dumb move, but he had already risked enough hurt to make her happy. He deserved a little bit of affection.

She curled up close to his shoulder, and had to admit, the feeling was nice, very nice. So nice that she began to close her eyes from lack of sleep, and eventually drifted off on his shoulder.

God did that feel good, sleep. The dreams didn't come as she expected them to. The horrible dreams she had had every day since she lost her legs. She didn't wake sweaty and exhausted, instead she woke rested and content and warm.

When she woke she found herself still on Sean's couch, covered in a blanket.

She felt a bit of embarrassment for having fallen so heavily asleep in someone else's house. She was sure he had to have felt uncomfortable with her just falling asleep on his shoulder. Honestly she was surprised he had let her sleep at all.

As she stood and partially shrugged one of the blankets off. The first blanket he had placed over her hadn't covered all of her, and had left her feet exposed. Despite the fact that they were prosthetic, and couldn't feel cold anyway, he had draped a blanket over them.

She smiled. She was beginning to like the way he treated her like everyone else. She still thought that he had to be into some weird stuff to find her beautiful, but with the way he said it she was certain he wasn't lying.

Sean walked in a moment latter, carrying a cup of coffee and smiling brightly.

"Hey, you're awake. Sleep well?"

She smiled sleepily. "Yes actually. Why didn't you wake me?"

"Well, from the way you were sleeping you looked like you needed it. I wasn't about to begrudge you some time to rest."

She laughed. "You have no idea."

He sat down at the end of the couch and handed her the cup. She accepted it and drank the piping hot liquid slowly, warming her from head to toe and waking her up gently.

This all felt incredibly nice, and so oddly normal. In a world where aliens lived to attack humans and the galaxy and after such a huge change had happened in her life, somehow this just felt perfect.

She still felt quite guilty over how she had treated Sean though. How would she ever make up for treating him like dirt when all he had been to her was kind. If he agreed to speak to her after today, she would be damn surprised.

She set down her cup of coffee and let out a long breath. "Sean, I'm so sorry for last night. You didn't deserve that."

He smiled and shrugged. "I understand. Messed up stuff happens to you down range, coming home for anyone is kind of hard to swallow. For you, I can't even imagine."

"Thanks, for all this," she said with a smile.

"Don't mention it," he said with a smile. "I just can't wait to see how great next time will be."

She laughed. "Next time? Really? After all I put you through?"

He shrugged. "It wasn't all that bad. Besides, you're cute when you play hard to get."

She smiled and laughed. "Well, in that case, I'll think about next time, and if there is a next time, make it a little less formal. Okay?"

He nodded, took her hand, and kissed it gently. "You really are beautiful, you know that."

She rolled her eyes at the arcane gesture and pulled her hand away. "Oh will you shut up and kiss me already? It's not like you haven't been waiting to this whole time."

A wide smile crossed his face, and he rested his hands on her waist, pulling her in for a gentle, slow quick kiss.

It felt nice, although she would never admit it. Being treated gently was simply something she hadn't experienced in an incredibly long time, and it felt almost foreign now, although slow and gentle really wasn't her style at all.

"Wow, that was the shittiest kiss I have ever had," she said with an evil grin, "You'd expect more from a Marine."

"Oh really?" he said with a smile, "how about you show me how it's done?"

She didn't respond verbally, and instead grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him in for a long, generous kiss, that started out slow, but slowly built until they were both entwined in a deep, passionate kiss. Sean carded his hands into her hair, becoming completely lost in her, until she abruptly pulled away and placed a light kiss on his forehead.

"That, is how you kiss someone," she said calmly.

Sean was breathing hard and quickly. His eyes seemed to be on fire and a smile the likes of which she had never seen was plastered on his face. She decided she would have to add someone being that happy to be kissed by her to the list of great feelings she had relearned today.

With a coy smile she stood and headed for the door. "I think I've overstayed my welcome. See you soon?"

He smiled. "Well, since I assume I can't convince you to stay, I guess so."

She nodded and shut the door behind her, feeling refreshed and smiling slightly to herself. Yes, there was certainly some things left to get used to, but she could figure it out. She always had.


So, this chapter ended rather hopefully, but the next one will not be so fluffy.

You've been warned.