I've written a few of these in a series. They were born out of my unassuaged lust for Captain James, but I've found them changing as I've written. They become more character focused as they progress, although there is still plenty of, err, diversion, shall we say. ;-)

This one isn't strictly canon as it occurs at a time before they'd really even admitted how they felt to each other, but maybe could have or should have or something. It's set in Episode 3 just after Molly returns from the UK and Capt James is a little miffed at the revelation that she's spent time in Newport with Smurf. Beware, there be smutty goodness ahead. For those new to my writing, I tend not to leave things to the imagination.

For those who haven't seen it, Captain James is an upper middle-class army officer and Molly Dawes is an East End army medic private in his platoon on tour in Afghanistan. They shouldn't be having it off or falling in love or any of those things but they do. And basically, he is hotter than hell.

I own none of these characters, but would love to own Capt James. They belong to the writers, unfortunately. But I'd really like to play with Ben Aldridge from time to time.

LL x

She stared out across the compound, the familiar blast of Afghan dust barely registering with her. Molly's eyes were fixed on his tent.

This was all she wanted, to be back here, back with him, despite the danger, despite the trauma, this was where she belonged. He had wanted her back and she had returned to him. Her time away had made her ache with hollowness.

But as the gates had once more enclosed her in their world, and his gorgeous face had registered real again before her, he had not given her the warm smile and affirmation of welcome she'd craved. He had been cold, dismissive, and it made her want him all the more. She knew the reason for his distance – he was jealous.

His resentment of her time with Smurf was so palpable it hit her with force. 'What are you telling me for?' She'd told him her time with Smurf meant nothing because he needed to know. He needed to know she hadn't betrayed the feelings he'd stirred in her ... that she hadn't betrayed her love.

She should have ignored his childish reaction. She'd been coming back to an officer of Her Majesty's Army and been met with a sulking little boy.

So why did she only want to go to him and hold him and tell him how much she wanted him? Why did she want him all the more?

She should be packing. She should be sorting her things for the return to Bastion. The others were over in the mess tent, eating. Their noisy banter forced its way into her head. She loved the sound of it, she loved the reassurance of camaraderie, she'd longed for it when away, but now it grated on her. He wasn't part of it. He was shut in his quarters.

Molly glanced over at the mess tent. They were all focused on their food and their laddish humour. They weren't looking at her. On silent feet, as stealthily as if approaching an enemy bunker, she padded across to his tent.

'Sir?' Not Boss. Not right now.

'Come in.'

His voice alone sent her insides into a mad dance of need. Molly closed her eyes, took a deep, settling breath, and went inside.

He was standing, his back to the entrance, looking over some papers on his desk. He glanced over his shoulder when she entered and she saw the slightest widening of his eyes before he pulled back the mask of disinterest.

'What is it, Dawes?' he asked flatly. She hadn't expected anything more.

'Boss, I …'

'What?' He interrupted tersely before she'd even had a chance to continue.

'It's good to be back, Boss.'

'Back here?' He at last deigned to turn to look at her, but crossed his arms defensively and cocked a cynical eyebrow.

'Yes.'

'In hell, Dawes? How can it be good to be back in hell?'

She looked him fully in the eyes. 'You know what I mean.'

He didn't reply. For a time he returned her look and his defence was dropped. She stood her ground.

'How was Newport?' he asked, his voice softer but still containing an edge of cynicism.

'Good.'

James shrugged. 'There you go then. This can't be good. Newport – apparently – is "good".' His head was down again. He couldn't meet her eyes for long.

'It made me think of you.' She said it without thinking, but she wouldn't take it back, she couldn't.

At that he looked up, slowly, and gave her what she wanted, allowed her to read his face. And beyond the mask of military conformity she saw it – his open longing.

'You don't need to think of me except when I give you an order, Dawes.' Always the army man.

'But I do, Boss. You know that.' She stepped into him. He didn't back off. He stood, arms folded before him, his breath pulled in heavily through his nose. 'And I know you … I know you think of me too.'

'Don't do this, Dawes.'

'Just tell me, sir. Just tell me. That's all. That's all I want to know. Do you? Do you think of me too?'

His Adam's apple lurched along the elegant line of his neck, right where she wanted to nestle into it, right where she wanted to curl her head against it and inhale all he was. Desire was screaming from her. Whatever she had started, she couldn't stop now.

His eyes flittered to hers. 'Yes.'

They were so close the air between them fizzed. So close but still so distant. His arms remained crossed, she daren't move.

'Boss …'

The muscle in his jaw worked fast. 'Don't call me that now. Don't fucking do that, Dawes.'

'What?'

'Call me that, here, now. I just …'

She was back to the open, giving passion that had got her into trouble before, that she'd tried so hard to channel into her army work. But right now, it was all for him and she couldn't stop it. 'I want you so much it hurts like an open wound, Boss. I know I'm mad. I know I'm crazy. But I think I'll go even more crazy if I can't have you.'

He stared down at her, his firm body looming over her, his eyes now unable to look away. His tongue flitted out inadvertently to lick his lips and she felt a sob of need catch in her throat.

He uncrossed his arms and raised his right hand towards her. Warm, assured fingers cupped her face and stroked her cheek. A hand designed to command and take up arms and point for her to follow now caressed and smoothed over her skin so perfectly she would melt into him.

'How can I not do this? How can I send you away?' he asked, so softly it was almost a thought.

She looked up, her eyes dampening with tears. 'You don't have to send me away.'

His left hand came up, mirroring the first and enclosing her head completely in his hold. Molly's heart pounded, her stomach threatened to upend her. It had to be. They had no choice in this, either of them. Desire overrode reason.

Slowly but inexorably, the captain bent his head to hers. At the first touch of his lips, it was right. Nothing else mattered, no one else existed except them. His kiss was warm and soft at first, as if not wanting to impose, as if still amazed at it all, but she took control. She pushed against his pliant mouth and urged him for more. He responded, moving with firm assurance now, deepening the kiss, gently teasing and testing her openness. His fingers tightened on her scalp, tugging her hair so that a sharp pang darted through her. It only made her crave him more. Molly coiled her arms around his neck and over his shoulders, feeling those firm muscles she'd been unable to ignore. Her fingertips played in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, soft like a baby's. He pushed against her lips and opened her mouth, slipping in his tongue softly and secretly.

But she was ready and opened for him, starting a slow dance, absorbed entirely on his beautiful mouth and what it was doing to her. Molly pressed against him, desperate to feel all of him, the length and breadth of this man who had captivated her from the first moment he'd stood before the platoon. And as she pushed into him she felt more. His desire for her was unquestionable. She rubbed against the hardness between his legs, bold and certain. He groaned into her mouth.

'Fuck, Dawes, what are you doing to me? What are you fucking doing to me? This goes against everything I believe in. This is crazy.'

'Uh huh,' she murmured. But his hands were on her top and were tugging it out of her fatigues. Her hands mirrored his, reaching up to his shirt for the buttons. They returned to each other's mouths but their fingers were feverish in their need to reveal more. Urged on by him, Molly lifted her arms and let him tug off her top. Soon his shirt fluttered open and he quickly shrugged it from his shoulders.

He fumbled for the buttons on her fatigues and she stepped out of them. Molly stood before her captain in only her bra and pants. She read the lust in his face as his eyes pored over her body.

'We must stop. Right now. We have to stop,' he said. His voice was as commanding as ever, but his hands disobeyed his own demands. He reached behind her back for her clasp and the bra loosened around her. She let it tumble to the floor as his mouth sought hers again.

'Jesus Christ,' he murmured as her naked breasts were revealed. 'You are so fucking beautiful.'

'Just like you,' she replied, tugging off his t-shirt so that she was at last able to feel that perfect torso underneath. 'Want you more than anything, want you, sir, want you …'

'Don't fucking call me that now!' his groaned between devouring kisses.

'Sorry, Boss,' she breathed, eliciting a grunt of desirous despair from him as he pulled her in hard against him and plunged his tongue possessively into her giving mouth.

The rest of their clothes were soon discarded and they stood in his quarters naked and stripped of rank and reason. His hands slid down over her smooth skin and he almost sobbed in wonder at what he had before him. 'Molly, fucking hell, Molly. God, do you know how long I've wanted this? Too long. Too fucking long.' His hands grazed over her belly and up to her breasts, which he cupped almost reverentially, letting his thumbs graze over the taut nipples. She sucked in as pleasure darted through her and pressed into him. His cock rose up between them, thick and hard. Their need was too great for niceties now. She reached down and came across the head, full and damp. He hissed and lost focus for a moment, enough for her to pull him down for another kiss and walk him back towards the bed.

But his dominance asserted itself and he took control, moving her quickly, so quickly that she fell with a laugh across it and he on top of her.

'I've dreamt of this. Every night, every moment I could … what it would be like to be inside you, what it would be like to be inside all that vitality.'

'It's yours. It's all yours. Do it.'

A slight frown took hold of his face, as if the reality of the moment was almost unbearable. It only made him more stunning. He reached between her legs and found her wet and ready. Those skilled fingers stroked from her perineum up to find the little bud of anticipation crying out for his touch. She keened in bewildered pleasure and arched onto his fingers. He rubbed and teased her for as long as he dared, eking out the expectation, building her need desperately.

Molly bucked off the bed and tightened her grip on his back. He hissed as her nails scratched. 'Fucking do it, Boss! Please, Boss, please!' she cried.

'I told you …' he slurred in a voice thick with lust, '… not to call me that.' But his true response came as she felt the hardness of his cock edging inside her, sliding up into all she was, pushing deeper and deeper.

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened to pull in air. His face was inches above her, his own expression tight with the pleasure she was giving him. He frowned a little as he squeezed in, as deep and hard as he could, right to the hilt.

They were joined. Connected. Bound together.

'Oh, Jesus, yes!' she sobbed. He swallowed and pulled back only to plunge hard back up into her.

When he was embedded in her, all was good, all was fine. Nothing could go wrong, she knew that now. As long as he was inside her. Each time he withdrew, a little something inside died, but when he thrust back in, strong, deep and thick, she was rooted to him, grounded.

He built up a steady rhythm now, moving in and out of her with regular pistoning strokes. He reached under and lifted her leg. She curled both around him for maximum penetration and he went at her. In this way, he caught her clit with each thrust, but when his hand slipped down and also found the fat little nub, she was lost.

'Oh, don't stop that! Don't ever fucking stop that!'

Her captain was beyond words. His strokes were almost demonic now, as he powered into her with possessive certainty.

She was lifted to the last level before the fall, ready to tumble. Molly gasped in as her orgasm teetered on the brink. After one final thrust, she came. Pleasure ripped its way through her chaotically. She shook so hard, she had to cling to him. With that, he came too. His gorgeous face creased in what seemed like agony as he released deep into her, each pulse real and clear. With each burst came a groan of ecstasy, propelled from deep within him.

Afterwards, neither spoke. They were beyond that. No words of urgency, no 'Boss', no 'Dawesy'. Just silence and completion.

He lay on top of her and she revelled in his weight pinning her down. She could still feel him twitching inside, the final moments that confirmed his devotion. She'd never felt such unbridled joy after sex, had never been so acutely aware that she had given something wonderful to another human being.

'Thank God for you, Molly. Thank God you came into my life,' he panted against her ear.

Now the tears did fall. She'd held them back and berated herself for letting them slip. She turned her head into his hair and dried her eyes on the softness of it.

Soon enough, the passing of time registered and stirrings of panic took hold. 'Shit. The others will be wondering where I am. They'll be finishing their pigging-out fest by now.'

James chuckled and reluctantly rolled off her to the side. 'I don't need to tell you not to mention this to a soul.'

She gave him a glare of pissed off disbelief. 'You must be fucking joking. You seriously think you need to tell me that?'

'It would be the end for us both if anyone found out, Molly.'

'I know that, doofus. I ain't daft.'

He smiled tenderly. 'No, you're not. You're incredible.'

She leant over to kiss him again. He curled his hand around her neck to hold her there but she pulled off with a groan. 'Seriously, this is crazy. They'll start looking for me.' Molly forced herself from his bed and started to dress rapidly. James lay back and just stared at her.

'What is it about me that you like, Dawesy?'

'Dawesy again, is it, Boss?' She laughed. 'I dunno. Maybe it's your posh boy voice … or the way you look when you work out … or those deep brown eyes of yours.' She grinned and put on the last of her clothes. 'Or the way you switch from stupid knob-wanking banter with those other twats then into this brilliant officer everyone would die for … But basically, I've gotta admit …' Molly sauntered over to the tent flap, but looked over and flashed him a smile just before leaving. '… it's the uniform.'

Oh yes, it is.

May have to write one or two more of these. For those awaiting other stuff (EW or TaGD) patience will be rewarded ... I'm typing, I'm typing ... ;-) x

Oh, and review type things are always gobbled up avidly. xx