Author's note: Okay, so this really was supposed to be a one shot. And it was, for ages, but then I was catching up on season 2 and sort of felt like there was more of a story here… So I've made minor updates to the original story, now Chapter 1, and added a second chapter. Whether there'll be more… Who knows?!

Characters from the Last Ship are not mine, we just hang out occasionally.

Thank you for reading and reviewing.

Chapter 2 - Frustration

It had been a one off. A natural response to a specific situation, almost certainly never to be repeated. The fact that he'd had to remind himself of that at frequent intervals during every day since, well, that was just the price he was willing to pay for having slept with Rachel Scott.

Mike was now reminding himself for at least the twentieth time today, as he watched Rachel passionately arguing with the Captain over their strategy. It didn't help that she was so desirable when she was angry. It also didn't help that he could still vividly recall the way her skin felt under his fingers, the way she tasted on his tongue, and the noises she made when he… Make that the twenty first time.

Rachel was failing to make headway with Tom Chandler, who was sticking firmly with his decision to prioritise tracking the submarine, and after the argument reached its unsatisfactory conclusion, Mike followed her as she stormed out of the room. As soon as they were out of earshot, she turned to him.

"My god! That man is so blinkered and so bloody stubborn!"

Mike tried for the diplomatic answer. "There's a lot of conflicting-"

"Bullshit!" She interrupted. "God, I'm so angry right now! Of all the pigheaded-" She suddenly broke off. "I'm sorry. You're the last person I should be ranting at. I'm sure you've got frustrations of your own."

As she said it, her eyes met his, and somehow that word – frustrations – took on a new meaning as they looked at each other.

He swallowed, and tried to keep his tone matter of fact. "It's a frustrating time." He agreed.

"Very frustrating." She echoed, eyes still locked with his.

Mike could have sworn that the narrow corridor was getting even narrower. It seemed as though he was almost touching her, even though they were standing on opposite sides.

He also could have sworn her hand twitched towards him as she said, "Maybe we should get together and discuss these frustrations?"

It was a one off. It was a one off. It was a- "My cabin? Eighteen hundred?"

She nodded, and left without another word.

By the time the clock ticked around to the appointed time, Mike had almost convinced himself that any innuendo was entirely in his imagination. This was no more than a chance to discuss their current disagreement with Tom Chandler. And the fact that he had shaved and put on a clean t-shirt was just coincidence.

Rachel knocked on the door and he let her in, noting a subtle hint of perfume as she walked past him into the cabin. Her hair hung loose and silky, and she was wearing a tightly fitted t-shirt that emphasised her figure.

He shut the door firmly and turned to face her.

"So, Doctor Scott, you wanted to talk about-"

"I don't want to talk."

She stepped close and wrapped her arms around his neck, and although a tiny part of his brain was still screaming at him about the one off, and the professionalism, and the duty of care, and all of the other perfectly sensible reasons not to do this, the rest of his brain - and the whole of his body - didn't give a fuck about any of that.

He bent his head and kissed her, groaning as she immediately opened her mouth and stroked her tongue against his. His hand found her breast, cupping it in his palm, his thumb circling her nipple through her clothes, and it was her turn to moan.

He grabbed her waist and lifted her, tipping them both onto the bed, landing between her legs without breaking the kiss. He pushed his hips into hers, feeling her gasp into his mouth as she felt how hard he was for her. Hell, he'd been hard for her pretty much constantly since the first time.

"Not arguing with me this time?" She asked, breaking the kiss to pull his t-shirt over his head.

"Haven't you had enough arguments for one day?" He asked, throwing his shirt to the floor and starting on hers.

"Absolutely," She breathed as he dropped her t-shirt and bra over the side of the bed and bent his head to attend to her breasts.

He'd remembered how soft her skin was, but his memories hadn't done justice to how it felt to kiss her breasts, to suck a nipple into his mouth and tease it with his teeth, to feel her fingers in his hair as she moaned softly.

"You like that?" He asked.

"God yes," She gasped and he couldn't resist a slight grin as he gently bit her nipple again before moving to her other breast. Her hips were bucking lightly against his, and he ground into her just a little.

"Stop teasing me," She moaned, and he lifted his head to look up at her flushed face.

"Wouldn't want to add to your frustrations." He replied, kneeling up and undoing her trousers. She raised her hips immediately to enable him to pull them down her legs, and he swallowed at the sight of the tiny lace panties beneath.

She whimpered as he cupped between her thighs, leaning back over her to kiss her again as his fingers started to slowly stroke her through her panties.

"Please, Mike." She whispered against his mouth. "Please..."

There was something about hearing her use his name that made him close his eyes for a moment before he looked into hers, seeing the need there.

"Rachel..." He murmured as he slipped his fingers under the lace fabric and groaned at the feel of her. "You're so wet..."

"It's all for you," She gasped, and he groaned again as he pulled the panties down her legs and dipped his head to kiss her stomach, hearing her whimper again as he trailed his tongue downwards and found her centre.

He'd spent far too much time lately thinking about the taste of her, and it was no disappointment. Nor was the way she arched up as he teased her with the tip of his tongue. He slowly pushed two fingers into her as he lapped at her sweet spot, and her gasps and moans increased in volume until he started to worry about passers-by overhearing.

"Oh god! Oh god!" She half shouted, and then came apart under his tongue, her body bucking almost off the bed. He dropped kisses on her hip and breast as he came back up the bed to see her flushed face and half closed eyes.

"Better?" He murmured, and she nodded. She looked so soft that he wrapped her up in his arms on pure instinct, feeling her relax against him. He stroked a hand slowly over her hair.

"Mmmm." She nestled closer, and he was so lost in the sensation of her warm, soft skin against his bare chest that it took him a second to register that she was undoing his pants. He sucked in a breath as her hand found its way inside and she encircled his hardness with her fingers.

She kissed his chest and pushed him gently back onto the mattress, kneeling up and pulling off his fatigues and boxers.

"My turn." She whispered, with the ghost of a smile, as she straddled his knees and bent her head to take him in her mouth. He groaned as she took his length, circling him with her tongue, her hand working him at the same time.

"Christ, Rachel..."

She tightened her mouth around him and he almost lost it.

"Want to be inside you," He rasped. "Please!"

She released him, and moved up so she was straddling his hips.

"Like this?" She asked, looking straight at him, a half smile on her face.

"Oh yeah." He took hold of her hips and guided her down, enjoying her moan as he filled her, and answering with one of his own.

She started to move on him slowly, and he kept hold of her hips, his hand moving round a little so that he could stroke that hidden spot between her thighs with his thumb. She threw her head back and gasped.

"Yes!"

She was starting to tremble and he lifted his hips and drove up into her, taking control, feeling her shatter just before he let go, spilling himself inside her. She collapsed forward onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She was breathing hard, and he knew he was doing the same.

"Less frustrated now?" He murmured, and he felt her smile against his chest as she nodded.

"Mmm, definitely."

He gently rolled them so they were laying on their sides, face to face, and saw her eyes were closed. Last time, she'd got up immediately, dressing and leaving almost before he'd had the chance to process what had happened. This time she was showing no signs of going anywhere.

As if reading his mind, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. "I'll go in a minute, I just..."

"Take your time, it's okay." He stroked a hand down her side, and she made a noise that was almost a purr. He snickered a little.

"You really are very good at this." She said. "Very, very good."

He tried to suppress a grin, but failed. "You're not so bad yourself."

She traced her fingers over his bare chest. "You're healing."

He nodded. "Barely feel it anymore."

He saw her hesitate before she spoke. "This... Is this okay? I mean us just working off our frustration on occasion?"

"Yeah." He ran his hand down her side again. "It's okay with me."

"I just don't want anything complicated, or romantic, or..."

"Whatever Tex is offering?" He tried not to smirk, but he didn't quite manage it.

She laughed a little. "Oh god, I don't know. Maybe someday I could start thinking about all of those things again - love, relationships... But here, now, with what we're trying to do with the cure - I just can't."

He nodded. "Well Doc, I like you, I respect you, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather work off my frustrations with, but I'm never going to want to date you."

She smiled. "Couldn't have put it better myself."

He sat up and reached for his boxers. "You need to go, or you want to have a shot of rum and talk tactics?"

"Do I need to put clothes on for that?" She asked, rolling onto her back and stretching.

"Not on my account." He replied with a grin.