I don't know what happened when I originally posted this. The format got really messed up there. I hope this fixed it.
Disclaimer: Oh don't make me say it. I know it, you know it, Sandy Frank knows it … The whole Battle of the Planets thing does not belong to me …
This is an old one, but I did really like it.
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It had taken all her courage to finally take the chance to ask. It had taken sleepless nights over the course of two weeks to find the courage she knew she had.
Oh, yes, she was the Swan, she had courage. She had courage beyond even the most decorated hero in history, in the bible, or in any comic book. She could take on the most fearsome Spectran leader without blinking her illegally long eyelashes. A platoon of Spectran soldiers were met only with a slow run of her tongue hungrily along the very corner of her upper lip.
Fear?
No.
Hah!
Meh!
Bah humbug – and all that jazz.
All of her courage and all of her training could never prepare her for the greatest challenge she might ever face in her young life. No amount of preparation, simulation or briefing could make the assignment easy, at that moment she would have taken a mission in the deepest, darkest, and most goon-filled Spectran base on any planet.
And then, when the mission was at it's close, and the repercussions evident as she faced off with her most fearsome and brilliant adversary, she would have begged for a slow and painful demise at the hands of Zoltar himself.
Anything … Anything but this …
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"…And so there I was, in the middle of the crowd, wondering where my pants were …"
Princess held back a yawn and attempted to look as absolutely interested as was humanly possible – given that the man sitting across the table from her was recounting weird dreams he'd been having since beginning therapy.
Jesus, men could be boring. They always appeared so damn interesting to her when on the outside. She always watched them with a sense of awe and curiosity that they could be so "in" to everything around them. They always looked like they led the most amazing existences.
Since joining in the dating scene she'd found out otherwise.
This was her fourth date in as many weeks. Four guys who'd seemed quite interesting on the "My Space" website, or had been recommended by friends. Four guys who turned out to be nothing she'd expected, or was even remotely interested in seeing again.
It was frustrating to say the very least.
She began to wonder if attempting something with someone of the same gender might be worth exploring…
Her companion for the evening noticed her absent look and prodded her with a concerned call of her name.
She blinked the thoughts of bisexuality out of her mind and gave a quick roll of her shoulder. "Oh, I'm sorry. I … uh …"
Her companion, a young man named Chris, tilted his head and offered her an offended expression. "Am I boring you?"
How could she lie to his face and feel good about herself? She was bored; abso-fucking-lutely bored.
With a downcast gaze she nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry, but dreams really are a personal thing, Chris."
He pursed his lips like a bratty child and folded his arms arrogantly. "Well, Sarah. I can't say your conversation has been particularly enthralling."
"I guess I'm not interested enough to be interesting, I'm sorry."
The apology was genuine. She was upset with herself for thinking for one moment that a guy whose screen name was "Klingon Kommander" would be a good match for her intellectually. Part of her believed it was the Commander reference that sparked her attention.
…She really did have a thing for Commanders … or at least one Commander specifically.
But, God, what a mess she'd made of that whole situation.
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"Hi, Mark. Do you have a minute?"
He looked up from his clipboard at the figure leaning her shoulder shyly against the doorframe. He had to smile – she did that to him. No matter how he was feeling he could always guarantee that her presence would always bring a smile.
He set the clipboard onto the desk beside where he'd seated himself and waggled his fingers to ask her to come in to his office. "Sure, Princess. What can I do for you?"
She peeled herself off the doorframe and took a couple of tentative steps toward him. She faltered in her approach and stopped, looking timidly away as if she were about to bolt at any minute. "I … uh … um…"
Mark tilted his head at her in concern. Timid was not a word he could apply to the woman in front of him. She seemed absolutely petrified.
In an attempt to put her at ease and coax the problem out of her, he pushed himself off the desk and closed the few feet between them. He fell in to automation as he set one hand on her shoulder and used the other to lift her frightened face to his.
"What's wrong, Prin?"
She was caught for a moment in the traction beam of a pair of soft, wide and concerned blue eyes. She couldn't move, breathe or speak until she finally had to blink her own eyes as they begged for moisture. That split second gave her the freedom to take a single step backward and tilt her head away from that gaze.
"I … I …" she stammered and stumbled as she searched for the words she'd been reciting all the way from the dry-dock hangar toward his office. In disgust at herself she clenched her eyes shut, stomped her foot and shook her head.
Mark frowned; she was definitely upset about something. He once again placed his hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong, Sweetheart?"
Her eyes flashed up at him. "Nothing's wrong, Mark. I … I just …"
He offered her a smile. "Then just spill what's on your mind. Don't analyze it, don't think about it, just tell me."
Her lip quivered in a smile, then faltered as she took her eyes off his. "I just wanted to know, to ask … Uh." She took a deep breath. "Will you have dinner with me?"
The question caused him to suck in a breath that sounded like a gasp. He quickly removed his hand and did everything but wipe it against his shirt. "No." The word came out too fast, too urgent. He could see it in her expression as it fell from frightened and unsure to shock, disappointment and embarrassment.
She couldn't hide the gasp or the redness that suddenly rose into her cheeks. "Oh. Uh." Her palm rose to her head and shakily raked fingers through her bangs. "God …"
Instinctively he tried to reach out to her, to try and correct his initial reaction to something that, truly, he really wanted. His face creased when she jerked out of his reach and stepped away from him, not looking, not talking to him.
"Princess, I'm sorry, but …"
Her shoulders rose in an involuntary high shrug and she continued to look everywhere but him. "I knew I shouldn't have asked. I half expected you to say no …" she sighed in a manner that sounded like she was trying her darndest not to cry. "But I never thought you'd be so … disgusted …"
"I'm not," he tried, desperate to make sure she understood that he wasn't at all disgusted. "It's just…"
She interrupted him with a gentle raise of her hand. "Please don't try to explain it, Mark. Really, I get it."
"No Prin, I don't think you do. There are so many things …"
Again she interrupted him, this time with a flash of sad green eyes. "Please, don't. It just makes it worse. I had just hoped we could go out, see where it takes us."
Mark sighed hard – He couldn't date her, he wasn't allowed, but surely she knew that. He closed his eyes over his own hurt and slowly reopened them to gaze pleadingly at her. "It's not you, Princess. Trust me it's not …"
She actually let out a short laugh. "That's the woman's line, we own it, so please don't. I understand, really." She dipped her ear to her shoulder and let the movement take her in a turn toward the door. "I don't wear a red leather flight suit and fly jets for a living."
The comment made him frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"
As she approached the door, she lightly fanned her fingers to touch them to the frame. The action gave her an ounce of courage, giving her the illusion of a shield between her hurt and him. She looked back over her shoulder at him. "I'm not deaf, Mark. I've heard the whispers, gossip and rumours about you and some of the Rangers' girls."
He reddened. The rumours weren't exactly false – possibly over exaggerated – but, there was nothing serious there. He classed it as preparation for the real deal – training for when he had the cojones to prey on the actual target of his affections …
…The woman walking out of his office.
"Princess, don't believe everything you hear."
Her glossy lips half turned in a smile. "Rumours usually have a viable base, Commander. They all stem from a true account."
"It's not what you think."
She closed her eyes slowly and breathed out her response so quietly he barely heard her.
"I think it is."
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Chris again prodded her with a call of her name to get her attention. She took her thoughts away from her mess with her Commander.
She took in a breath and adopted her most innocent look. "I'm sorry, I'm just so distracted tonight with a problem at work."
His brow flicked. "What kind of problems can an office receptionist really have?"
"The list is long and varied, believe me."
Chris thumbed at the side of his mouth. "Like what? Whether or not your lipstick matches your shirt?"
She frowned and tilted her head, wondering where, exactly, this had come from. "I'm sorry, did I do something to offend you?"
"You mean like telling me I'm boring?"
She pursed her lips – oh yeah, that – and let out a short breath. "You know, I think it's time for me to go."
His hand snapped to cover hers as she pressed them into the table to push herself to a stand. "I don't think so."
In instinct her head snapped in to a defensive tilt. Her eyes narrowed only slightly at him in challenge. "I think," she growled as she roughly snatched her hand out form under his. "That this evening is officially busted. It was … interesting … to meet you."
His finger pointed downward. "Sit."
Her eyes blinked and reopened, wide. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"I heard you address a dog."
His lip flicked up as he sniffed hard. "I said, sit. I paid for this evening, I will say when it ends."
She almost laughed, but instead angled her head in a manner fairly threatening. "No. Tonight I am saying when this ends." She opened her purse and tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the table. "It's been an enlightening evening, thank you."
Without further ado, she stood, removed her jacket from the back of her chair and strolled out of the restaurant toward the valet, cursing when she realized that Chris had driven them both here. To make matters somewhat worse, and to end her evening in a fitting way, the sky above her head rumbled and began to spit toward the ground. She looked up, opened her arms and asked the heavens why they were tormenting her tonight.
She actually began to wish the flowers were back again. She'd willingly allow one of them to swallow her up.
As she lowered her head and contemplated contacting Jason for a pick-up, she heard Chris approach her from behind.
He didn't speak, or smell in any manner that should have alerted her to his presence, but there was that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that warned her of his approach. Years of combat training kicked in and took control, she kept her head low, and watched the shadow of him draw close. She deliberately didn't speak to acknowledge his presence, and held off on raising her communicator to her lips.
She felt her shackles rise as he moved close to her.
"At least let me be a gentleman and drive you home, Sarah."
It made her shudder to hear him use her birth name. For so long she'd been known only by it's Hebrew translation of "Princess" that she barely felt any familiarity in it at all. She did, however, flick her eyes to him to respond.
"I'm fine, thank you. My brother will pick me up."
He pulled the collar of his tan sport jacket up in an attempt to shied himself from the light rain. "It's going to really come down any minute. You'll get your pretty dress wet."
Her shoulders hunched in a shrug as she shook her head. "That's a chance I'll take. I thank you for the offer, but it's best we end it here and not prolong the agony of a bad evening."
"I insist."
"Well don't, because I'm not accepting."
To punctuate her denial, she stepped away from him and walked toward the corner.
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"Princess, about this afternoon …" the message on her answering machine explained. "It's not what you think. You have it all wrong.
Please give me the chance to sit and explain it to you.
Can you come to my office, or even my shack and we can talk?
Please?"
Her lip curled as she hit "erase" on the machine, not even bothering to hear the rest of it.
Ass.
If he wanted to talk to her he could use the communicator like he always did. Obviously if he used a landline connection where the chances of him actually getting her were nil-to-zero, he didn't actually want to get hold of her. This was just his way of claiming he offered the olive branch in case things got ugly at Neptune.
Ass.
She was a professional for crying-out-loud, she wouldn't start anything. She would still play the doe-eyed and obedient little Swan in the presence of anyone besides the two of them. Why should she announce her rejection to the world by doing otherwise?
Ass.
She turned back to the computer monitor and opened her My Space profile. A carefully crafted profile, she had told the world her name was Sarah, and that she worked as a clerk in a small office outside of town. Her status was single, no kids, and looking for a connection.
She had over 50 online friends, most from the Rangers and Federation, but there were a few stray contacts that had been interested in what she had to say in her blogs and whatnot.
Perhaps she should give Mark a chance to explain. Maybe he was genuine, and there was a real reason why he was so stunned by her invite. Maybe he honestly thought she might not be interested …
… HA! The whole bloody world knew she was interested.
Maybe there was an "official" explanation to be offered. Something like he was forbidden to be attracted to her. It wasn't a totally unlikely scenario – Jason was banned most definitely from her. Anderson practically had that plastered on the walls of the Federation building …
… "The Condor is forbidden to set his sights on the Swan. Jason, stay away from Princess!" …
What's applied to one, right?
She clicked on an email from one of the female Ranger pilots and accidentally clicked on "View Profile" rather than "Read Email". The first image on the front page made her heart flop to the bottom of her chest.
The Pilot, known as Felicity, was sharing a couch with Mark, she was nestled into his naked chest, and he had his arm around her, lips pressed into her temple. The caption underneath the picture claimed, quite clearly, "If you knew what I knew, experienced what I did, you'd forgive the hairstyle too."
Without will or command her hand flew to her mouth and eyes filled with tears.
Other explanation?
Bullshit.
He was playing the field, pure and simple.
Well, two could play at that game, Commander …
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The rain began to fall hard and loud. The downpour started so quickly that she'd not term it "pouring" but "exploding". It was as if the very clouds above her head were Spectran Bombs she was unable to disarm.
…And each little droplet of water was like a hot piece of shrapnel against the bare skin of her arms, covered only by the thinnest of spaghetti straps of a dress created for wear only on the sunniest of days.
She was frustrated to say the very least. Four men, all so out of her radar she should never have even said hello, let alone dated.
Curse this luck. Curse the dating scene. Curse him.
Yes, HIM. Curse that asshole that led her team for his subliminal messages of want and need. For his little enticing tidbits and carrot dangling.
Curse him for dragging her along for so long that she was too unprepared, naïve and unable to enter the dating world with any knowledge of anything beyond her service in G-Force!
An IQ of 165, years of book worming and study, hours and hours of physical, emotional and mental training to be the very best that she could be, idol and sex-symbol to the world … and a woman who had never been kissed.
How positively embarrassing for a 20-year-old devastatingly beautiful woman, in a society where 14 year olds were experimenting and exploring themselves and others, to say she was still as pure as the day she was conceived.
And it was HIS fault!
Ass!
She wiped clumsily at eyes without tears with the back of her hand and stalked around the corner, where she had every intention of throwing her back up against the wall, stomping her foot and screaming as loud as she could that all men were assholes, especially her Commanding Officer.
Ass!
She did as her mind demanded and spun on the ball of her foot to push her back up against the brick wall of the restaurant. But before she could clench her fists and stomp her foot, she was horrified to feel a mouth crush against hers and hands shove her hard up against the kiln-fired clay brickwork.
She choked a muffled gasp as a hard tongue probed hard between her lips and teeth in search of her tongue. It was shock that froze her in place as hands tugged down the straps of her sundress, then heavily scraped down her sides and thigh to pull it up from her knees and up over her thigh.
She pressed both palms against his midsection to attempt to push him away from her, and to see who her attacker was.
She gasped as her push shoved him away enough to separate his mouth from hers. As his eyes opened and narrowed into her gaze, she staggered yet closer to the wall.
"Chris…?"
His lips curled as she began to struggle away from him. "choSuvchugh 'oy'lIj Daghur neH."
She gasped and stalled again, this time looking at him with more confusion than fear. "What the Hell?" She struggled against him once more. "Chris, get off me. I warn you, I am not someone you want to …"
He snarled and shoved her harder up against the wall, spitting out the same phrase to her again. She breathed deeply, in a pant that was confused, shocked, and grossed out. "What language is that? Who are you? What do you want?"
He let out a long and low groan. "bljeghbe'chug vaj blHegh."
"What?" she asked, confused. "What are you saying? Who are you?" He fumbled with her dress, clumsily finding a way to life it enough to accomplish whatever task he had in mind. She screwed up her face, grunted, and used all her strength to shove him off her. "Get the Hell away from me! I'm warning you, Chris. You've picked the wrong woman for this."
His face contorted aggressively as he lunged at her again. In less time than it took her to inhale in shock, his fist met with her cheek, then her midsection. She doubled over in a retch at the impact, but raised her head to look at him. "Are you Spectran?"
He forcibly grabbed the softest part of her upper arm and squeezed tightly enough to have a tourniquet effect. With a voice low and dangerous, he laughed with contempt at her. " tlhIngan jIH"
The phrase he spoke last was familiar. She knew it well. Klingon.
That was about it for the Swan. She let out a low groan of displeasure and dropped her face to glare through her brows at him. Her cheek may have been throbbing, her midsection raw. Her upper arms tingled with the interrupted blood flow that would guarantee black and blue bands. She may have been physically hurting with this attack, but she was pissed. Pissed off beyond all reasoning. A Spectran soldier was denied the right and ability to physically harm her in this way. They had no right. Who in the Hell did this Star-Trek-Fan-Klingon-Wannabe think he was; attacking her like this and sprouting an imaginary language in an attempt to look mean and evil?
She growled, snarled, and let out a warrior yell that would have dwarfed anything that … that show could have imagined. "You. Are. Not. Klingon!" She yelled as she shoved him off her and spun on her heel to deliver a kick to his midsection. "There are no such beings as Klingons!"
She took hold of his hair and pulled hard on it to shove her knee into his face. He grunted something indecipherable and gagged as he fell onto the wet bitumen of the alleyway. She stooped low enough to address him face to face as he lay on the floor.
"Now. I told you that I wasn't interested. You can play your little Star trek games with your little basement dwelling friends as much as you want. But in the real world, you are nothing!"
" tlhIngan jIH" he whispered hoarsely as he rolled on to his back and clutched at his stomach.
She stood tall and looked down her nose at him on the ground. "Yeah. But I like Earth guys, asshole." She was fairly tempted to give him one last, good kick for good measure, but chose against it at the last moment. Instead she stepped over his groaning, prostrate form and wandered out to the street.
She raised her communicator to her lips, and ignoring the pain of a swelling eye and cheek, called to the eldest member of G-Force for vehicular assistance. "G3 to G2, Jase. Are you on?"
"Yeah, Prin. What's up, kiddo?"
"I'm stranded … can you help out a woman in distress?"
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"Did you hear about ….?"
The gossip ceased and whispers started as she slowly entered the Neptune cafeteria. She could feel the judging glances of the base woman as she tried to look as unaffected as possible while grabbing herself a small bite to eat. She bet she knew what it was about.
Mark – What else.
Perhaps the Eagle leader decided to share his unwanted invitation from her with his latest conquest of the week.Damn him.
Who did he think he was?One of the Rangers pilots playfully nudged her with his shoulder as he passed by, giving her a wink that offered an apology that really wasn't. She gave the young man a shy smile and let her head fall with feigned innocent embarrassment.I
t would be a wonderful retribution to the Eagle leader if she took herself a Ranger pilot. Shinji was a good looking young man close to her age and with a personality she could definitely enjoy – if only he wasn't as much of a ladies man as reputation suggested.
But, again … Who better to teach her the ropes?
She sidled up to him and bit on her lips before taking a deep breath. "Shinji, Uh …"T
he cocky little Australian recruit grinned boyishly at her and waggled a brow. "Hey babe. What can I do to … I mean, for you today?"
She had to smile and redden at the same time. He'd make this nice and easy for her. "I was wondering if you'd …"
A grunt from over her shoulder halted her words mid-sentence. "Wilson, you cocky asshole. What did I tell you about making moves on Princess?"
Princess spun and gasped to see both Mark and Jason standing like protective sentinels behind her. "C-C-Commander," she stumbled, completely caught off guard.
Mark's reaction was somewhat odd. He actually seemed to look mildly hurt by her talking to Shinji, or Lieutenant Wilson as he was called when in trouble – which was more often than not. His eyes were a glazed blue as they searched out her face for an explanation.
Shinji wasn't so hesitant to respond in a coherent manner. He shrugged and leaned back against the counter. "Hey, man. She came up to me."
Mark's gaze softened, yet still questioned her. He said nothing, however.
Jason on the other hand, didn't remain silent. He curled a lip and spat a toothpick from between his teeth onto a fresh Spaceburger on Shinji's plate. "Yeah, probably because you did something juvenile and she wanted to kick your ass."
Shinji smirked and shrugged as he flicked the offensive little piece of wood from his food. "Yeah, whatever, Mate. I know you'd prefer the honour, so how about you 'n me in the gym in thirty?"
Jason smirked dangerously, a glimmer of thrill in his eye. "Yeah? You seriously want another ass kicking?"
Shinji laughed. "Yeah … oh hang on a minute." He checked at his communicator and pretended to answer a call. "Ahh. I got a message from the Colonel. He says that I'm not allowed to get my uniform dirty. Apparently shit splatters, man, so …"
The implication was obvious, but rather than growling aggressively, Jason laughed. "You know, man. Your insults just get more and more creative. You got a dictionary or something in your jet?"
"Wouldn't do him much good," Mark chimed in. "He'd need to be able to read. This asshole's illiterate."
Shinji flipped the bird, which ended Princess' participation in the banter. She sighed and walked away, tossing her empty tray on top of a pile. She glanced back as she felt Mark's hand gently touch her upper arm.
"Princess, do you have a minute?"
She let her eyes fall to his touch, and then raised her gaze to his. "No, Mark. I have a few reports to write up."
"I really think we should discuss …"
She pressed her finger against his mouth and breathed a shush so gentle it was seen, yet not heard. "There's no need, Commander. I assure you our working relationship won't be offended by what happened … or didn't happen between us."
"I want to explain."
"There's no need. I understand it all completely."
"I don't think you do."
She hooked her hair behind her ear and gave him one of her 100-kilowatt smiles. "Yes I do, Commander. Please let it lie."His hand reached for hers and toyed with her fingers for a moment before grasping it possessively. "I don't want to."
She pulled her hand from his and stepped backward. "Well I do." She spun and quickly left the cafeteria, rubbing at the hand he'd held to tightly only a mere few seconds ago.
Ass.
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"What the Hell happened to you, Prin?"
She had to smile at Jason's question. She'd counted off how long it would take for him to notice her disheveled state. It had taken him exactly five seconds from when she opened the door to notice she looked like a drowned rat. She'd hoped that was all he'd noticed. She gave a subtle shrug and did everything she could to keep her face hidden from his view. "I got a little wet."
"To state the obvious," he huffed. "Where is the G3?"
She kept her eyes out of the passenger side window. "In the Phoenix."
He kept his eyes and much of his concentration on the road ahead of them, but there was always that little piece of concern for her that made him want to press her further. "How did you get out here?"
She inhaled on a high note and leaned her head in her palm, which was supported by her leaning her elbow on the window ridge. "I really don't want to talk about it."
"Why not?" She scrunched her fingers in her hair. "Let's just say I made a big error in judgment."
He pulled up at a red light and cast his eyes to her. "That doesn't sound like you."
She blinked back a frustrated tear and tried her darndest to keep her voice steady when she replied. "Recently it does."
The response and barely concealed waver in her voice made him frown. He reached across and pulled her wet, matted hair from her face. His concern gave way to anger when he saw the tender swelling of a fresh hit on her cheek. "What the?"
She jerked away from him and tried to cover it with her hand. "It's nothing."
"The Hell it isn't," he growled as he raised his hand to turn on the dome light for a better inspection. It was with white illumination from a bright led light that he saw the deepening bruising on her arms. "Oh, shit, Prin. What happened?"
She shrugged close to the door and covered herself as best she could by crossing her arms against her chest. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
His eyes narrowed further. "Was there Spectran activity? Why didn't you call me sooner? What about Mark? Did you contact him?"
She sighed and pointed at the road ahead of you. "No. Because I handled it. What about him? And no. You might want to drive now, you're holding up traffic."
His eyes blinked slowly and he flicked on the four-way flashers. "Fuck 'em, they can drive around me. Princess, what happened?"
She let out a huff and shrank a little in the seat. "I was almost the victim of a date rape."
He went silent. Silent except for the slow grind of his teeth. It seemed a millennium before he asked a single-word question. "Mark?"
Princess jolted up in shock that he would even entertain the notion Mark was capable of such a thing. "No. No, Jase. My God. If I was with him there'd be no need for rape."
His eyes narrowed. "Shinji?"
She grunted. "Noone you know, Jason. You know well enough that you've warned every single male within a 50 mile radius of the Federation that you will personally destroy anyone who even thinks about asking me out."
His lip twitched a self-amused curl. "Damn straight."
She finally felt comfortable enough to open herself up a little and expose some of the more visible signs of attack to Jason. "I have no idea what I'm doing out there, Jase."
"Honestly, Princess. I don't think anyone knows."
She leaned back into the chair and rolled her head on the headrest to look at him. "But you guys always seem to do okay."
He sighed and switched off the hazard lights to restart their journey. "Oh I could tell you some stories, Prin. Dating is a hit and miss game, really."
"And dangerous it seems."
The angered look flashed across his face again. "Who is he, Prin? I want full details."
"I handled him."
His lip twitched again. "And now it's my turn."
"He's not worth your time, Jase."
"Want a fuck'n bet?"
She had to smile at that. "I appreciate your valour, though."
He took her hand in his and squeezed it tightly, protectively. "Tell anyone, and I'll vehemently deny it."
They were both silent for a few moments, just concentrating on the sounds of the wipers squeegying the windshield of rain. Finally, Jason rubbed this thumb across her finger as he continued to keep hold of her hand.
"Mark's going to want to know what happened to you."
Her hand tightened in his. "It's none of his business."
He flicked his eyes to her, sighed, and looked back at the road. "But you know full well he'll make it his business."
"I don't care."
He pulled into a parking spot in front of Princess' apartment building and killed the engine. He threaded his arm across the back of the seat and leaned against his door. "What's going on, Princess?"
Readying to open her door, she had to pause as the question was asked. She turned to look at him and sighed at his position. He was obviously in the mood to talk. She curled up in her chair, facing him and shrugged a shoulder. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you and Mark. Both of you have been acting weirdly for over a month." He thumbed at his nose and rolled a toothpick along his lip. "Obviously you and he aren't dancing the horizontal mambo, so what's the story?"
She let out a long-suffering breath. "There is no story, Jase. He and I are not, never have, and never will be … dancing any dance."
He tilted his head at her. "Why not?"
"Because he isn't interested."
Jason had to expel a laugh at that comment. "Oh yeah, and monkeys might fly out of my ass."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh real mature, Jason."
"No. I'm serious. What gives you the impression he's not interested? Because he's had a couple of one-nighters with the Ranger's chicks?"
She gave a shudder. "I would never, in a million years, consider Mark capable of a one-night stand, you know that?" She nestled her head into his arm. "I thought he was more respectful than that toward the whole … thing."
He tilted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "No man is, really. Sex is just that, sex. You go in there, have some fun, have a ten-second orgasm, then bang. It's done."
"I thought it was supposed to be more than that."
He smiled and hummed satisfactorily at her. "Spoken with purity." He took a thoughtful breath and removed the toothpick from his teeth. "Sex and love, two different beasts. Sex is just that, sex. You run in there do it as quick as you can, get the hit of endorphins, then you're done … Ten minutes, an hour if she likes to play around. Making love, well, that's more complex. There's a slower approach, tenderness, a need to give more than you'll actually get in return. You take your time, you plan it, live it, need it. Sex is selfish, Making love is the exact opposite."
She rolled her eyes. "A rehearsed speech. I expect you use it more often than not to score, right?"
He shrugged and shook his head. "Nah. Never needed to."
She sighed. "And it's unneeded now. Him having sex with anyone has nothing to do with how I came to my conclusion about us anyway."
"Then how?"
Her ear dipped to her shoulder and she clenched her eyes shut not wanting to air her mistake to the one guy who could give her hell for it for the rest of her life. She knew, however, that she couldn't keep it from him. With a long sigh, she opened her eyes and looked honestly at her older brother. "I asked him out."
His brow flicked skyward. "You what?"
"I asked him to come to dinner with me." "And?" She gave a short laugh. "He was absolutely disgusted by the suggestion."
He shook his head and frowned. "No, Prin. I doubt that very …"
"You should have heard how quick he said 'no'," she interrupted as her eyes began to swell with frustrated tears. "God, it was so embarrassing."
Again, Jason shook his head. "Oh, Sweetheart. I think you misinterpreted his reaction …"
"Please don't call me sweetheart, Jason. I can't be called that anymore by him, or by you, or by anyone."
He took her hand in his and gave it a tight squeeze. "Have you even talked to him since about this?"
She shook her head. "I can't. I'm humiliated enough."
"You need to, really," he urged. "I think you'll find that he feels the exact opposite to what you think."
"I can't."
He touched his fingers lightly to her swelling cheek. "But you'll put yourself through this instead?"
"It's less painful."
"But it means I have to stalk you, check out anyone who you show an interest in and beat up anyone who doesn't look right."
She laughed softly. "I can take care of myself, Jase."
He pulled her into a hug. "So can I, Prin. So will I."
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"What were you thinking, Princess? That was, beyond doubt, the most stupid thing I've ever seen, and that's saying something considering I have Jason on the team."
Princess blinked back her own frustration as she watched her Commander stalk a pissed-off pace in front of her. "I'm sorry, Commander. I honestly thought …"
His spin toward her shoved any further explanation back down into her diaphragm. He raised a finger at her as his eyes flared in anger. "I didn't tell you that you could speak. You are … report. You're on report." He watched her hiccup like a child chided and rubbed at his brow with his forefinger and thumb. "I can't believe you did that. You almost got yourself killed, god damn it!"
"But I didn't," she whispered timidly.
"No. You didn't because Jason and I managed to get you out of there." He pointed to the doorway, where he knew Jason was stalking. "And don't think he's going to come to your defense, because honestly, he's as pissed off at you as I am."
She sniffed and blinked tears from her eyes. "But I've done it before, and you've never had a problem …"
"Because you had the correct Intel before. Princess you went in blind. You had no fucking clue about what was beyond those doors."
"There's no need for profanity, Commander."
He coughed, opened his mouth, and then closed it again tight as if quelling a comment much worse than what he'd originally said. He waited a moment and seemed to attempt to calm himself before he spoke again."Princess." He pursed his lips to blow out a short breath. "I'm Commander for a reason. I am supposed to command the team. When I make an order, you are all supposed to listen."
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it quickly when he raised his hand to tell her to shush.
"When I tell you to stay on board the Phoenix and maintain surveillance when myself and another are boarding a mecha, then it is your duty to do as I ask." He began his pacing again. "I told you to stay here – it was a direct order."
"But you were in trouble," she tried, her whole body drooping and reaching for him in desperation. "I couldn't stand here and do nothing. I couldn't watch the both of you die. I couldn't lose you…" Her hand flew to her mouth at her own admission.
Mark reacted quickly and rushed at her. His hands punched either side of the gurney she was seated on and he leaned down upon then, forcing his face only inches from hers. For all his aggressiveness, his voice was remarkably smooth and gentle. "But you'd let us lose you?"
Her breath came in staggered. "I can't, Mark. You're all I have – all of you."
His gaze and stance softened as he raised one hand to cup gently at her cheek. "And you think I could live without you?" His eyes searched her face. "You scared me, Princess, and I don't scare easily – but the thought of losing you …"
She stiffened and jerked backward, forcibly removing his hand from her face. "Don't, Mark. Just don't."
He backed up, stunned at her rejection. "What?"
She leapt off the gurney and offered him a look that asked him if he was a moron. "What? You're asking me "what"?" She shook her head and walked past him, holding up her hand in a manner to tell him to talk to it. "If you ever touch me again, Commander. If you ever make any form of suggestion that there is, or should, be something between the two of us, I will have you up on charges of harassment."
His mouth said nothing, but his wide eyes spoke volumes. He was stunned, shocked and desperately confused.She decided to elaborate. "I am sick of your game. I am sick of you trying to keep my attention with your little tidbits of affection and caring." She strode quickly to the door. "You've shown me exactly how you feel about beginning anything with me, so you can stop the game."
"Princess, please. If you just give me a chance to explain myself then …"
"Mark. Just quit it," she groaned. "I get it, okay. Now can we finish this? I screwed up, okay? I nearly got myself killed, I agree it was stupid. Now please, let's just get back." She took a breath. "I've got a date tonight, and I want to clean up for it."
Mark was silenced. A date? With a man? A man that wasn't him? He barely blinked as he watched her leave the med. bay of the Phoenix. Slowly he walked toward the wall, only ceasing his approach when he was close enough to rest his helmeted forehead against the warm steel.
"How'd it go?" Jason asked as he stalked in though the door.
Mark's lip curled at the sound of his second's voice. His breathing began to deepen as he chanted a single word over and over again."Damn."
To add punctuation to each word, he began to punch at the wall.
Both hands took turns in striking the wall. "Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Dammit. Damn. Fuck!"
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Jason had been respectful enough to let her walk to her apartment alone. Originally he'd offered to escort her and make sure she got tucked in to bed safely enough, but she'd giggled at him and asked for him to let her be for the night. He'd obliged, but waited until she walked through the door before he left.
What a man. One day he'd make some woman very, very happy.
She walked into her living room ready to tell Keyop he was to go to bed. Her shoes squelched, waterlogged and muddy. Her hair hung heavily and damp onto her shoulders, and her dress, once pretty and yellow, was now wet, creased, and brown with mud. Add to that combination a blackening eye and two fairly well developed ringed bruises on her upper arms, and she was in great shape to greet him … Mark.
He stood quickly from the armchair beside the couch where Keyop was playing Nintendo when she entered. "Princess …" His eyes flashed wide, and then narrowed when he saw her state. "What happened?"
She stood like a move-style female superhero beaten into the ground and now standing tall ready for the final battle. Her legs were hip-width apart; her arms angled slightly out from her side, fingers splayed, and head low. She stared at him through her soggy bangs and said the only thing that came to mind.
"Go to Hell."
He gaped at her words and was unable to quickly respond as he watched her turn on her heel and storm out of the room into her bedroom. He looked back at Keyop, who had been oblivious to the scene, then quickly walked behind her. He held his hand in front of him to stop her from slamming the door in his face. "Princess. Wait."
She walked to the bed and threw her jacket, keys and handbag onto the duvet. "Contrary to what you may believe, Commander, this location is not Hell." She spun and glared at him. "Perhaps you might ask Google for driving directions."
He frowned at her comment and stayed at the doorway, where he stood with his arms folded defensively across his chest. "That's uncalled for, Princess."
She rolled her eyes and shook her head as she waved a dismissive hand at him. "Just go, Mark. I've had a really rough night and want to have a shower and go to bed."
"I'm not leaving until you and I have talked about what's been happening over the past few weeks."
She opened her arms to present herself to him. "Do I look like I really have the energy or the want to sit down and discuss anything right now?"
He gasped at her. "God, Princess. What happened to you?"
She sighed, rolled her eyes skyward, and then walked to the dresser to retrieve fresh underwear. "I really don't want to talk about it."
"Uh, I think you should."
She slammed the drawer shut, wincing as her fingernail got caught, then ripped just shy of the quick. "Why would you even care?" she asked before poking her finger into her mouth in a misguided attempt to suck away the pain.
His body slouched to the side and his face fell. "Because I do, Princess. Not just because I'm you're Commander, but because I'm your friend."
She snorted and swiped a pink nightie from the back of the chair in front of her vanity. "Just friends, now and forever," she sang sadly. "If you must know, Mark. I had a date that ended very, very badly."
He was at her side in a second, his face creased in anger. He took her hand in his and drew her close enough for her to be against his chest. "Tell me who and what happened."
The close proximity caused her a shudder, and she pressed her hand to his chest to lightly push him away from her. She looked into his eyes tiredly and inhaled a whisper of his breath before she stepped around him to enter her ensuite bathroom. "I just want to forget about it, Mark. Please."
"I trust you served him your own special kind of justice?"
She smiled weakly and pointed toward his communicator. "If the details are that important, ask Jason. He's the one who drove me home."
He looked down at the blue and yellow band around his wrist, and raised his head to the door as she closed it behind her. Even through the sound of the shower, he could hear a muffled weeping sound. He clenched his eyes shut and raised his com-link to his lips.
"G1 to G2. Jase?"
"Let me guess. You saw Princess."
"Tell me what happened."
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"So. Spill it, Mark. What's going on with you and Princess?"
"Nothing."
"Don't bullshit me. I know you. I know when something's going on."
Ping-pong table conversations always seemed to have the most danger of turning into something competitive and ugly – not that they weren't usually, but Jason had this way of making a harmless game into an Olympic style battle when he wasn't getting his way.Mark expelled a breath and wondered if he had the energy to play this game with Jason, or just come out with it and admit he was a dube.
The latter seemed a better option – Jason pretty much thought he was a dube, anyway.
"I messed up, Jase."
Jason smirked, but kept his main focus on the game at hand. "Enough that I need to beat you for it, or just something stupid that you've managed to turn into the Epic of the century.
"Mark backhanded a shot at him. "How about a little from column A, a little from column B?"
The answer took enough of the Condor's attention for him to miss a return shot. He grunted and grabbed another white ball from a basket beside him. "Is this to do with your reprimand on the Phoenix this afternoon?"
Mark bounced the ball on the table a couple of times before setting up to serve. "Not really. I know I was hard on her, man. But, shit, I almost lost her."
Jason waggled his fingers at his Commander to tell him to serve up the shot. "Hell, she's lucky it was you in there with her. Had've been me, I doubt she'd have walked out of there in one piece."
"She almost didn't," he responded casually. "God, Jason. What was she thinking? Why would she be so careless?"
"Maybe because you and I were in there and unable to make contact. You know her, she'd kill herself to make sure we got out alive."
Mark finally served the shot. "As we would her …"
"Damn straight."
Mark watched the ball shoot by him and shrugged his shoulders as he laid his paddle on the table. "She scared me, Jase. She scared the Hell out of me."
"You and me both, man."
"It's times like that, that you take stock of your life and wonder what it would be like without her."
Jason folded his arms across his chest, still holding on to his paddle waiting for Mark to decide to keep playing. "Unlivable, I guess."
Mark nodded. "I couldn't survive, I know that."
Jason smirked. "Them's the words of a man in love," he teased.
"That's something I can't deny, Man."
Jason shrugged. "You never have. Fuck, I've known it since you were 14."
Mark pursed his lips. "She asked me out."
Jason's brows rose in surprise, and then fell into a waggle of question. "So you two are doing things behind closed doors. About time."
Mark let out a breath and shook his head. "I turned her down."
Jason's eyes widened in shock. "You did what? Oh come on, Mark. Why'd you go and do something like that? You've had a perpetual hard-on for her for eight years."
Mark shrugged. "She caught me off guard. It was so out of the blue that I didn't know what to say."
"So you said no?" Jason retorted incredulously. "Well that at least explains a few things." He flicked his eyes to his Commander. "Have you tried talking to her about it?"
He nodded. "Repeatedly. She just keeps avoiding the conversation and me. Every time I try, she pulls away further and further." His face screwed up on one side as he thought about where she was right now. "Damn, Jase. She's dating now. She's on a date with some strange guy you and I haven't even had a chance to do a background check on."
"Dating?" Jason's brow rose. "Well you have no choice but to force her into a corner and make her hear you out."
"It's not that easy, Jason. I wouldn't know where, when or even how."
Jason shrugged. "At home, tonight after her date, just damn well tell her. Say 'Princess, I love you, let's stop all this bullshit and do what the mammals do and do it all night.'"
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She half expected him to wait on the other side of her door, but she still gasped in surprise to see him there when she walked out wearing a pink slip and a towel on her head. She inadvertently nudged him with her shoulder as she walked past. "Sorry. I thought you'd already left."
Mark opened his eyes and immediately offered her a sorrowful and pained look when he saw her bruising. "What did he do to you, Sweetheart?"
"Please don't call me that, Mark."
He peeled himself from the wall and approached her quickly. He set his hands on her hips and lightly rubbed his hands inches up and down. "Why not?"
"Because it hurts," she sighed, unable to bring herself to take his hands off her. "It hurts that you act like you care so much for me, that you really, really, want to explore something further with me and then reject me like …"
He cut her off by pressing his mouth gently against hers. Tentative at first, he made do with only moving his lips across hers in a soft kiss that turned into several soft kisses.
She gasped in his breath as he kissed her. Her eyes remained open, shocked, but curious as to what expression he may have; was it legitimate, did he actually want to do this; or was it only done in an attempt to shut her up?
His eyes were closed, his expression serene. This was something he wanted to do, not something he thought he had to do.
Relishing in the moment of her second kiss in life, she closed her eyes and touched her fingers to his neck. Her reaction caused a low rumble in the back of his throat. Testing the waters more, he parted her lips with his and gently probed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned, which made him smile against her. "You like that?" he asked as he finally pulled his mouth from hers and let his forehead lay against hers.
She answered with a light nod and a sigh that sounded like "uhuh."
"So. Can we talk now about what happened in my office?"
Her body slumped and she pulled away from him. "A new tactic. Great."
His brow rose as he watched her slowly walk to the bed and flop down so that she lay on her back with her legs hanging over the edge. "No, Princess. That wasn't a tactic, that was something I wanted to do."
She covered her eyes with her forearm. "Then talk, Mark. Tell me whatever you need to make yourself feel good about saying "no", and then leave. I'm tired, I'm sore, and I'm damn miserable right now."
"I wasn't exactly honest with you when you asked if I wanted to have dinner with you."
She laughed, but didn't take her arm from her eyes. "Which part of it?" She gasped and quickly pulled her arm from her face as she felt him step in between her legs. He pressed his hands into the mattress either side of her breasts and looked down at her.
"The part where I said no."
She had to admit to feeling somewhat uncomfortable with their current position. It wasn't fear or discomfort on an emotional level, but more on a physical one. Every part of the lower part of her wanted her legs to hook around his thighs and pull his hips in against hers.
It took a heck of a lot of will power for her not to do it, even if she was aching in areas she didn't know could.
"So what are you saying, Mark?" she managed after a few frantic heartbeats.
With unsupported breasts pressing against his thumbs, Mark found himself having to clear his throat to concentrate. "I'm saying that I should have said yes."
She arched her neck a little in a move of seduction rather than comfort. She wanted to invite those lips back onto hers.
"Then why say no?"
He looked down with curiosity when he felt her hips shift a little closer to his. It made him shudder in ways that felt … nice.
"You caught me off guard, Princess. And you also caught me ten minutes after the Chief had left my office after reminding me of my Command duties and how I should keep my interests outside of the Federation." He felt her begin to pull away from him, the thought of the other women obviously somewhat upsetting. He slid his arms against her chest to lower himself in order to keep her with him.
"I wasn't sure, exactly, how to respond after such a reprimand."
She shifted her right leg against his, stroking up and down, inner thigh against outer thigh. "But now you know?"
He dropped down onto his elbows and touched his hands to her face. His body pressed against hers from hips to chest, and he had no doubt she could feel the answer to his question.
"I knew the second you walked out the door how I should have responded."
She bit at the inside of her bottom lip. He was hard against her. She could feel him press against her, through the thinnest satin of her nightgown.
The tingle she felt between her legs was like nothing she'd ever felt. It was a pin-prick of pleasure that seemed to tingle down along each leg. She wanted to feel it more, see how much more it could be, and hooked her ankles together to pull him yet closer. The action opened her up to him; she could feel it lay along her, touching her along her own length.
She gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes. "My God."
He smiled down at her and subtly rocked his hips against hers in a teasing promise. "Princess. Can I?"
Her heart almost stopped. "Can you what?" It was hard to hide the excitement in her question.
It made him smile and he dropped his lips to below her ear. He continued to rock against her, only increasing his pressure on her. "Can I make love to you?"
Her bottom lip sucked into her mouth. She nodded unable to say anything that would be remotely coherent. "Uhuh."
He drew his tongue up her cheek beside her ear and nipped at her jaw as he dropped his eyes to watch his hand slide down over her breast, along her hip, then down her thigh. His finger hooked into the side of her panties, and as he drew them slightly down he found pause.
There was a question in his mind that he had to ask.
But he was unsure if he would be prepared for the answer, given their estrangement over the past few weeks.
"Princess, can I ask you something?"
Her eyes widened as she nodded with an open mouth, her pleasure at him still pressed against her obvious. "Anything, Mark."
He pursed his lips and took a breath. "Have you … Have you ever done this before, with anyone?"
"You mean have I had sex?"
He nodded.
A look of mild embarrassment crossed her face and she briefly looked away from him. "No," she whispered softly.
"So you're still …"
"Until tonight, Mark. I'd never even kissed a man."
The admission sent a shock to his groin. She'd waited for him. She hadn't let another man touch her.
"But you'll let me?" He needed confirmation.
She nodded and pulled at his shirt to drag him down for another kiss. "Yes. Now do it before I change my mind and tell you no."
He obliged with more enthusiasm than the Eagle should ever show. His mouth crushed against hers and hands expertly found their way to areas on her never before touched by another.
She writhed and panted below him.
He unbuckled his belt, desperate to free himself and teach her how he needed to be touched. As he brought her hand into his jeans to touch him, the door burst open and Keyop bounded in, holding up his Nintendo proudly.
"Mark, look!" he yelled, fairly oblivious to the fact that Mark was on top of Princess – fortunately still relatively clothed. "I beat the game!"
Princess reddened immediately and pulled the pillow over her. "Keyop! You are supposed to knock when you come in!"
The young lad raised a brow and watched as Mark rolled off Princess and sat somewhat uncomfortably with his legs crossed and elbow on his knee to hide what was glaringly obvious to anyone.
"Why? Because you're all kissy kissy with Marky-Warkey," he teased as he jumped up on to the bed beside her. "Look at that Commander. I beat your score fair and square."
Mark smirked and rubbed the boy's head. "The Swallow is mightier than the Eagle – There, I admit it. You won." he chuckled as he offered Princess an apologetic glance.
"That's right," Keyop brooped, nestling himself against Princess' chest. He yawned and stretched. "I want you to email that to all Neptune staff in the morning."
He looked at the clock and pointed at the door. "Speaking of. It's late, Mark. You should probably go home now so Princess and I can sleep."
"Actually," Mark smiled. "I was kind of hoping to spend the night here with you and Princess."
"Slumber party? Nah that's a girl thing," Keyop retorted.
"But…"
Princess put her hand on Mark's arm and gave him a smile. "Keyop's probably right, Commander. It's late, and when he gets overtired, he can be up pretty late." She lowered her head shyly. "I hope we can continue our discussion another time, though?"
He leaned over, held her chin in his fingers and softly kissed her on the mouth. "I hope so too."
Between them, keyop tilted his head from side to side in a "nya nya nya" manner.
Mark took the hint and stood to leave. As he got to the door, he turned around. "Princess. How about dinner tomorrow, just you and me?"
"As in a date?"
He didn't like the hesitant tone in her voice. "Um, yeah."
She shook her head. "No, Mark."
He was shocked and gaped when he searched for confirmation of her answer. "No?"
She smiled and shrugged. "I've found that I suck at dating. How about I just come to your place tomorrow and we get a pizza, have a coke and finish what we started here tonight?"
He gave a laugh and nodded. "Whatever you like, Princess. I'm yours to do with what you desire."
"Brave statement," Keyop murmured as he began to play his game again.
Princess dropped her gaze to watch Keyop's game. She felt Mark watching them both for a long few moments before he left.
She settled back into her bed, unsurprised that her younger companion opted to walk out into the hallway when she turned out the lights to sleep. For the first time in five weeks, she felt she'd sleep with a smile on her face. Her groin was still raw and tingling …
But that would be seen to next time she saw Mark ….
Her eyes flashed open, then narrowed coyly when she heard Keyop's door close. She raised her communicator to her lips, hoping the Eagle wasn't too far away not to return.
"G3 to G1 Mark, are you on?"
He responded quickly. "Ears on, Princess. What do you need?"
"You," she sighed. "Now. Right now. How do you feel about spending tonight with me."
There wasn't a hesitation … "Yes."