Title: They Said …
Author: Me
Prompt: #86 - Choices
Pairing: Charles/Margaret
Rating: 13 (Sergeant)
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything. Don't sue … no money.
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know.
Feedback: Would be appreciated - good or bad.
Word Count: 396
Spoilers: None.
Summary: The fic's not long enough for a summary.
A/N: Written for VarietyPack100's prompt of "choices" and the Yahoo group prompt of "He said … she said …". This was pretty rushed (10 minutes exactly) and I'm sorta 'meh' about it, but at least my muses are speaking to me again.
He said … he would not get involved with anyone while he was overseas. Neither male for friendship nor female for relationship. 'It should be simple' he'd told himself as he left the luxuries of Boston behind. How could he expect to find anyone 'over there' - American or otherwise - who would even come close to the caliber of people he normally associated with? Just the mere thought of it was impossible.
Oh, he knew he'd be lonely and might occasionally need the comfort of someone, but the situation would not progress beyond that particular moment in time. Of that, Charles Emerson Winchester was absolutely certain.
Until …
She said … that once Donald Penobscot was finally out of her life for good, she was finished with men for a long while. And that was okay with her. It would give her the chance to focus on her biggest passion in life -- nursing. Maybe she'd ask if the doctors would assist her in training the nurses to take care of triage duties; freeing the surgeons up to get prepared for the long hours in OR.
Men would always be there. They could wait.
Oh, she knew that there would be times when she'd need someone. She was human after all. She had needs and desires, but it would only be for one night. Nothing more. Margaret Houlihan had no doubt in her mind that that was the truth.
Until …
They said … they only wanted to help each other. To blow off some steam. To break up some tension. To burn off some stress. And, in the beginning, that was exactly what it had been between them. Six months later, things had changed.
Every single night, Charles went to Margaret, and as it was on that very first night, they could hardly wait to get their hands on one another. But now, there was no reason to rush things. There was ample time to explore and experiment and revel in each other.
And when they were finished - laying, sated on her bunk, wrapped together in a tight, sweat-soaked embrace, whispering words of love and adoration against the earlobes of the other - neither one could remember what he or she said, nor did they even care.