Articles of Faith.
Lt Cdr Faith Coleman contemplates life (and the idea of children) with her dark-haired pilot lover.
Original A/N added 04-Jun-2018: "They are not mine; I am merely taking them out of the DPB box, playing with them and putting them away again - apart from any character created by myself". Characters are borrowed with love and appreciation for the great team who brought us "JAG"; may your following careers blossom.
Summary: AU. This is a fictional story, in a fictional (slightly) Alternative Universe, about fictional characters who entertained us in a fictional TV series between 1995 and 2005. Lt Cdr Faith Coleman looks back on her relationship with her dark-haired pilot and makes a decision about their future together. She wants more - a lifetime commitment - and she makes a decision about creating the next generation.
A/N: A little piece of fluff, inspired after loading the Faith Coleman character into FF for a future adventure. Mike
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The apartment door opened, revealing the cool interior of the refuge which Faith Coleman shared with her pilot. She put her cover on the hall table and eased off her shoes as she put the week behind her. Her 5'9" (1.75m) frame straightened as she discarded the three-inch heels which she had worn in court earlier in the day, to intimidate a particularly obnoxious Australian exchange officer - whom she had out-argued, out-manoeuvred and out-classed in court over the course of a two-day hearing. Victory had felt good - but her toes needed recovery time!
Throughout the week whilst her pilot was away, a long succession of cases, depositions, motions and assistance with Wills - capped off by an absolute humdinger of a court case which had seen her use up every sharpened pencil in her briefcase - had all conspired to wear down Faith's reserves of energy.
The high point - which had kept her going all week - was the impending return of her dark-haired pilot to their apartment.
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When Faith had first met her pilot, their initial hand-shake had caused both of them to sense sparks at the first contact. The successful handling of the court case had turned on relationships, perceptions and concealed motives; but when the hearings were completed (and the charges against the pilot were dismissed), she had followed up on her instincts. In turn, her pilot had fallen in love with Faith's laugh and her intellect, her freckled nose and lop-sided smile: they were well-matched, despite the stressful circumstances of their initial meeting.
Faith had fallen headlong for the soft expressive lips, the winning smile and the lovely eyes, which sparkled beneath the peak of the pilot's uniform cover. The delicate hands, well-accustomed to gently directing an aircraft in flight, along with a wry sense of humour and self-deprecating smile, confirmed her initial attraction and, by the end of their first weekend, Faith was lost and deeply in love (as was her pilot). A meal following the end of the trial had led to a slow-burn relationship over the next two months, with both of them exploring, asking, probing and considering before the weekend when they finally committed to each other.
Faith had welcomed the love of her pilot after a prolonged dry spell on the romantic front and they had moved into a joint apartment (closing down their individual leases) after a further three months. They concentrated on building a joint home in which their shared influences - and shared passions - had developed a warm, welcoming nest which would, they hoped, one day welcome children.
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With her briefcase re-stacked and ready for the next week, Faith made herself a cup of tea and settled on the sofa in the lounge. Their customary habit, when both were returning to the apartment after a deployment, was for the first arrival to remain dressed (apart from shoes) until the second partner arrived, so that they could disrobe each other and welcome one another home after their military travels. The concept of "homecoming" was deeply ingrained by their military backgrounds.
She looked at her knees, smoothing her skirt, and laughed at the recollection of her "Little Miss OCD" nickname from the days when she would sit, "prim and proper" (as one other lawyer had affectionately described her) with knees, ankles and hips all at 90 degrees. She sighed contentedly: the days of "little robot Faith Coleman" were behind her - thanks in no small measure to the love which had been lavished on her by her wonderful, sexy, loving pilot.
Her pilot had sent Faith a text message, confirming a safe landing and an ETA back at the apartment. Faith had replied with a brief "the temperature is OK" text message to build her pilot's anticipation. She had been monitoring her body temperature each morning for the last three months, building a chart to tell her the best time for conception. The coming weekend should coincide with her next ovulation. After they had committed to each other and moved in together, the idea of raising children had naturally been discussed - both were keen to become parents, although Faith would have the hard work and the discomfort of the pregnancy. She needed to discuss possible timescales with her lover, so that any pregnancy interruptions would have a minimal impact on their respective careers.
She sipped her tea, with her legs tucked underneath her, in the neat and unique female pose which men are simply unable to mimic. Looking down at the trim waistband of her skirt and the flat, fit, washboard-smooth exercise-toned stomach which lay beneath, she considered the likely impact that any pregnancy would have on her body. She was glad that her exercise regime had been followed so diligently, because a fit body should enable a trouble-free pregnancy.
Faith smiled to herself as she spread her hands across her stomach and considered what pregnancy would be like - the disruption and inconvenience would be worth it, to complete her family with the wonderful dark-haired pilot who was now a firm fixture in Faith's life. The coming weekend was set aside as time for the pair of them to rest and recover from the week, with no social events booked - just time for the two of them to concentrate on discussing plans for the next generation.
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A key turned in the lock; the door opened, a sea-bag was tossed in and then the door closed behind the new arrival. Her pilot stood before her; she took in the three solid gold stripes of the Commander's rank, the neatly polished shoes and the warm, glowing smile which was ready to press against her lips as the pilot's cover was removed and placed alongside hers on the table in the entrance hall. Standing face-to-face, Faith and her pilot unbuttoned and removed each other's outer jackets, then hung them, in formation, on the hallway coat hooks. They closed in for a kiss, then Faith's neck-tab was being loosened as her fingers freed the material around her pilot's throat.
The pilot's right thumb playfully rubbed, through the material of Faith's uniform shirt, against the nipple ring in her left breast as her thumb caressed the matching ring in her pilot's body. The nipple rings were a three-month anniversary gift to each other and the only metal which adorned their bodies - both their pairs of hands were bare and unadorned with jewellery. The thick material - and breast-pockets - of their respective uniform shirts hid the secret adornments, yet Faith felt that her ring was hot-wired directly into her pleasure centre; she momentarily had difficulty in standing straight, to play their game, as her lover stroked the nipple and nudged the nipple ring in its secret position. Faith responded and smiled in satisfaction at her lover's gasped breath as Faith's fingers found their mark. Hearts pounded, blood surged and the two lovers merged steadily into each other as the homecoming party heated up.
A steady trail of discarded uniform clothing led down the hall, across the lounge and into the bedroom where Faith welcomed her pilot home after a long week in the air.
Much later, two satisfied and requited bodies luxuriated in the shower, enjoying the impressive water pressure and the abundant hot water, before a light supper and early lights-out.
Faith was so glad that she had overcome her initial reservations about the pilot's cocky attitude (a fact of life in pilots, she reckoned) and that they had built up a firm professional respect, good working relationship and then, finally, a deep and enduring loving partnership.
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Summer 2003
A leisurely Saturday morning saw a shopping trip to the mall to restock the kitchen cupboards, lingering at a well-known bistro for lunch before returning to the apartment. Faith had indulged her pilot's long-held wish for a vintage (aka "classic") Corvette which they had sought out together, whilst Faith's preference for an SUV (with her neatly-marshalled running equipment, minutely-controlled files and jogging kit installed in the load-space) marked her vehicle as distinctive from her pilot's chosen mode of transportation.
The discussion about conception continued for a further few months before they were fully ready for Faith's conception.
This period of time saw her pilot have a major falling-out with the US Navy and embark upon a second career flying with the CIA. A wider range of aircraft (some not officially on the US forces' inventory) began to appear in the pilot's log, counting up the flying hours but - crucially - continuing the US Government service towards a full pension after 20 years.
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Thursday 24th October 2003
Home of Lt Cdr Faith Coleman
The actual process of conception took a little while longer than they had hoped; a couple of months had passed before Faith began to experience, in full spectacular disruptive fashion, the symptoms which "bless" a newly-pregnant mother-to-be. Thus it transpired that, during the week that the morning sickness initially hit in overwhelming fashion, Faith's pilot was busy overseas, somewhere in the Mediterranean.
Faith emerged from the bathroom one morning on her own and missing her pilot, desperately hoping that dry crackers and a cup of tea would soothe her rebellious stomach, when ZNN broadcast the picture, around the world, of an incredible feat of airmanship. The achievement of landing a monster C-130 transport aircraft, successfully if "only just" before running out of deck space, had been witnessed by the TV crew who happened to be embedded on the USS Seahawk.
Faith saw the blue flight-suits and realised that her pilot had, once more, been saving the world and protecting women and children.
If she hadn't felt so awful after the bout of morning sickness, Faith would have been truly proud of her pilot lover. As it was, she had to wait until the aftermath of another bathroom visit before her stomach settled sufficiently for her to dial the mobile phone number of her pilot and pass on her congratulations (for the outstanding piece of flying) and the news of her pregnancy.
Across the miles, she hear the distant ringing tone, counting the seconds until the warm tones of her lover's voice filled her ears.
Despite the ZNN news report, she would not truly be assured that her pilot was safe until she heard, for herself, the voice which would mean that her pilot was safe.
Faith smiled as she imparted the news to her lover.
"Hi darling Beth, we're going to be parents".
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Don't ask; don't tell. US forces policy: February 28, 1994 – September 20, 2011
FIN.