I didn't create the Plum universe characters below. All the credit goes to JE.

Fredda (Rangergirl1234) in the midst of all you have going on, I can't thank you enough for squeezing in beta time for me as well.

Amy (beancounter74) thanks for offering me some real life inspiration for Dr. Walker. Hopefully the information below will do you justice.

Chapter 11 - Revealing

I could feel gentle rows being plowed in my hair with fingernails ever so lightly touching against my scalp. The slow movement from my forehead back to the crown of my head was repeated without pausing, and I found the hypnotic element hard to resist, electing to keep my eyes shut and just float in the bliss of the moment.

Gradually my ears came back on-line and I could hear voices around me speaking in a hushed way, trying not to disturb my rest. My eyelids each felt a few hundred pounds, so I was in no hurry to try lifting them.

"Did you know him too?" Dr. Walker was questioning someone.

"We had the same handler, so I'd met Shea, but I've been out of running missions for just over a year. I haven't heard from him since he was just the secretary to Stewart when I was active," Bobby's voice replied.

"Why would he be gunning for Santos?" She followed up.

There was a long pause before Bobby ventured a guess. "Santos is a machine in the field. He is fully focused and dependable to deliver results. I don't know if Stewart was unwilling to let him go and figured by saving Les from the suicide mission he might be able to lure him back in, or if Shea just got tired of hearing about the famous Santos and stepped out on his own to get rid of the competition."

"If Shea was in the military, why wasn't he doing missions of his own if that's what he wanted?" Dr. Walker asked a great question.

"I asked around with some friends in DC and they said he ran a few but was injured and forced to retire a few years back. He had been bragging lately that he had a doctor that was willing to testify to the fact that he was physically able to perform his duties in the hope of getting back on a black ops team, but Stewart didn't have any openings yet," Bobby informed her.

"You'd think he'd welcome Les' last mission then because it was clearing out a space to be filled," she pushed.

Bobby chuckled, "Yea, but word is Shea isn't the guy Stewart wanted to fill the slot."

Silence descended once more and I felt a pair of warm lips press against my temple. As good as it felt, I didn't want to disturb the conversation taking place around me, so I continued to play possum and just laid there, absorbing her touches and love.

After a while Bobby decided to try asking a question of his own. "I mean no disrespect, but can I ask why you're doing all of this?"

"Doing what?" Dr. Walker asked not sounding the least bit put off by his question.

"Trying to help Santos sort this out and keep him safe to give him a chance to piece together the clues about this threat," he explained. I had to admit I'd like the answer to that one too.

I could almost picture her touching that scar, but I didn't open my eyes to check. Fortunately, Bobby gave me a visual by following up, "Why do you do that whenever you're asked a question about your motivation?"

"Do what?" She asked, curious.

"Touch the scar on your neck. Your hair is covering it now, but I remember seeing it yesterday when you were in your fatigues.

There was a muffled laugh and a deep breath. "Let's just say I've seen what can happen when I chose to ignore the feeling that something fishy is going on, and I don't think I'd survive the fallout again."

"Is that the answer to why you're doing this, or why you touch your scar?" Bobby pushed a little.

"Maybe both," Dr. Walker replied cryptically. "I tend to mess with the cut on my neck when I'm distracted or thinking, out of habit more than anything. It was a wrong place at the wrong time kind of injury."

"What place was the wrong place?" Bobby kept going, showing more interest in her story than he usually did when someone was being so evasive.

"The wrong end of the glass I suppose," she replied flatly. After silence settled into the room I heard a ragged inhale and then Dr. Walker started talking. "My late husband, Victor, was a great soldier. V's record and that of Captain Santos were very similar. He drew people to him and was just an amazing, honorable man. A couple of years ago he came back from an op beaten and bruised. He swore that he was done with missions and he notified his handler he wanted out."

When she paused Bobby told her, "You don't have to tell me if it's too hard. It's none of my business, but you can trust me if you want to keep talking."

She didn't respond to his words directly, but by continuing her story she must have believed he was trustworthy. "That last mission was horrible, and he struggled sleeping. His dreams were vivid, and every night he continued trying to fight the battles that had been so screwed up in the jungle. For a while it got worse, but I stayed by his side trying to help in whatever way I could. I was still pretty new at this, so I don't know how effective I was, but he began to improve and the dreams went away. When his handler called and told him he'd drop the remaining year on his contract if he would run one final mission, V jumped at the chance. He was convinced that if he could get back in the field and do a successful mission that it would rid him of the feeling of failure and the dreams would disappear on their own."

"That's not what happened though is it?" Bobby prompted.

"Not exactly. I didn't want to clear him to go back on his final mission. I'd read the manifest and thought it was another mission doomed to failure, so my heart didn't want him to go. We fought over it, giving us the first real fight of our marriage. There was no medical reason for me to hold him back, and he passed all his psychological exams too. I had someone else perform the mental assessment, and he was recommended for return to service. I figured it was just my own reservations getting in the way. Finally, I couldn't take the tension anymore and I gave in and let him have his way, clearing him for service once more. The night before he left he fell asleep and didn't have any dreams which gave me a false sense of peace that I'd made the right decision."

After an audible swallow she continued. "John, the doctor treating Santos' injuries, came to the house the next morning, furious that his brother was going out again. He tried everything possible to keep V from leaving, and when that didn't work he turned on me telling me I was all but killing his brother. That infuriated V, so the fists started flying in the kitchen. I stepped back to get out of the way because they'd done this before, and V always came out on top. The next thing I knew, John said something that I couldn't make out, but it pushed V beyond his normal restraint turning the fight much dirtier than normal. I can't exactly explain what happened except John ended up airborne and fell into a section of shelving that had glass containers on it which fell and shattered all over the floor. V started to walk away assuming his brother had the good sense to know he'd been beaten."

Something told me the story was about to get dirty. "When V's back was turned, his brother picked up a large piece of glass and threw it at his back. I screamed for him to drop and his instincts kicked in allowing him to flatten himself on the floor, avoiding the flying projectile. I was so focused on V that I lost track of the glass until it hit the side of my neck."

"John came to his senses and ran over to my side, but V decked him knocking him out cold. He took me into the bathroom and cleaned up my neck, and put the stitches in himself, which is why the scar is as evident as it is. V knew the basics from the field response training we all got from the Army, but his technique left a little to be desired. We locked John in the house after we were done, and I took V to the base where he left for his final mission that night." Her voice definitely broke up at the end of that sentence and I could hear her sniffing a little. Bobby was saying something in a low voice, but I couldn't make it out.

It must have made her feel better because she started talking again. "Anyway, the short version is that the mission was every bit as screwed up as I feared it would be. The guys were ambushed and V was killed trying to protect the kids he was commanding. About a week after V left, John showed up one evening. We were standing at the door of the house and he was beginning to offer a lame attempt at an apology when the black Crown Victoria pulled up and three officers stepped out. I knew right away what was happening and I started to back up. John was a little slower to pick up on the clues, but as soon as they said how sorry they were to be bringing me such bad news he turned to me and said the first thing that came to his mind. He told me his brother was dead because I hadn't done my job and kept him out of the field. He reminded me that Victor had no business being cleared, and if I had been better at my job he would still be alive. It was my fault my husband was gone, and as cruel as it was for him to say it right then, I couldn't disagree with him."

"Amy, that's bull-shit. You stepped away because of the conflict of assessing your spouse and allowed your competent staff to do their job without interference. If you'd tried to keep him grounded he would have found a way out anyway. When a soldier's heart is beating for battle, there isn't much you can do to hold him back." Bobby tried to assure her.

She sniffed again before responding, "I knew in my gut that clearing him was a bad move. The trouble is my gut isn't an acceptable reason for rejecting an application to return to duty. And since his dreams were gone, nothing was interfering with his activity, strength, appetite, or skills. The only reason I had for refusing to clear him was that his mission gave me a bad feeling. But I knew I shouldn't have done it, and because I didn't listen to that screaming voice in my head, my husband is dead. I may not have pulled the trigger, or given away his location, but I am definitely part of the reason he's dead."

I heard something moving against the floor like a chair sliding across tile and then I could hear the soft sound of Dr. Walker crying. I attempted to open my eyes and before the lights forced me to shut them, I caught a glimpse of Bobby kneeling in front of her with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Her head was on his shoulder with her face turned to his neck and her long blond hair cascading down. I could make out the expression of Bobby's face and could see both concern for the woman in his arms and hatred for the cruel actions of her brother-in-law who took the horrible circumstance of her losing her husband and making it even worse for her. I already admired the hell out of her, but hearing what she'd been through and what she'd lost made me like her even more. Based on the grip Bobby had on her, he felt the same way.

As I waited for the stars to disappear from my eyes from the light's invasion, I could hear Stephanie softly crying behind me. Not caring about the lights, I turned quickly to face her and opened my eyes to look at her. I had to squint as I still felt slightly drugged and keeping her in focus was hard, but I refused to give up. "Don't cry," I whispered.

"I can't imagine what she went through. I know I said I understood your mission meant you probably wouldn't make it back, but the truth is I wasn't prepared for it. If I had gotten that same visit, I would have fallen apart. I don't know how I would have pulled myself together to keep going. Not only has she kept moving, but she is absolutely amazing at what she does. I admire her so much," Steph offered as the explanation for her tears.

I turned my head to look at the scene behind us and could see that Bobby was still talking softly in Dr. Walker's ear. She was sobbing quietly, and he was holding her tightly to his chest. They seemed to fit, and I felt like an intruder in a very private scene.

I turned my attention back to my wife to at least give the impression of privacy and smiled when I heard Bobby suggest the two of them leave for a cup of coffee. There was a long enough delay in her answer that I worried she was going to say no, but when Bobby added, "Come on and have a drink with me and maybe I'll say something else stupid and strange to give you another reason to laugh at my nervousness."

Apparently that was too cute of an offer to pass up as she stood up and said, "I'll go, but if you call me sturdy, I'm warning you that all that time I spend in the range in the mornings isn't because my aim needs improvement." Bobby's loud booming laugh echoed as they walked out together.

Once the door closed, affording us a little privacy, I rolled again to better see Stephanie. She was looking at me with an expression of complete adoration. Before I could say anything, Steph's cell phone rang and she made a face then answered the call.

I could tell from her answers that she was talking to her mother about something her Grandmother had done. She listened patiently, chirping in occasionally when her mother gave her a chance to talk. While she was distracted with her conversation I used the time to look at my wife. She was tired; there were dark circles under her eyes that she had attempted to hide under some make-up. I wondered why she was so tired and reached up to brush the curls away from her face. She smiled at the attention but continued talking to her mom.

When it sounded like she was winding down I strained around a little more so that my mouth could have access to the underside of her neck. She shivered as I kissed my way from the bottom of her ear to the collar of her shirt. I took my time savoring the taste of her on my tongue and loving the way her body responded to my attention.

As soon as she hung up she let out the most wonderful moan. "Oh God I've missed the things your mouth can do," she confessed in a sultry voice.

"My mouth has missed doing it too," I assured her, nipping her neck softly between my teeth. "How's you mom?" I asked to be polite.

Stephanie started laughing, and I knew there was a story there. "She's at the end of her rope with Grandma Mazur."

"What happened?" I asked, pulling back a little so that she could talk.

"The rehab center where Ed was being cared for called to talk to her. Apparently when the nurse came in to give him a bath she noticed his manly part had some discoloration on it, and when she examined it closer she was convinced it was bruised. They wanted to know what my Grandma had done to Ed to bruise him there. My mother assured the nurse Grandma Mazur hadn't done anything to Ed's private part and hung up."

She began to laugh softly before continuing, "When Mom asked Grandma Mazur if she knew how Ed got bruised there, Grandma doubled over laughing and explained about writing on it with a sharpie when it was hard. I guess with it back to its softer, smaller size it just looked like black skin and the nurse misunderstood, assuming it was a bruise. Since the doctor refused to give him anymore Viagra they had trouble getting it clean."

I laughed at her Grandma's most recent escapade, easily able to picture what Steph described. Then I nuzzled her neck just under her ear and said, "You know, if you wanted to write on me we wouldn't need any Viagra to tighten the canvas."

She laughed deep in her throat before saying, "I think a stiff breeze is all it would take to tighten your canvas."

"It's true I like to feel things blowing…" I began teasing her.

Before she could respond the door opened and Marcus came in. "You need some help getting ready for bed for the night?"

"Nah," I told him. "I think I can figure it out."

"Just ring for help if you change your mind," he reminded me before tipping his head at Steph and leaving us along once again.

"How about I help you test out that new cast and we get you in the shower?" She offered.

A shower sounded perfect, and a shower with Steph sounded about as close to heaven as I could get here on earth.

She led the way to the bathroom with a seductive smile on her face. After she got the water adjusted she turned back to me and undid the button at the top of her shorts. She never took her eyes from mine as she pushed them down and let them fall to the floor. When she stepped out of the pants, she kicked her sandals off at the same time and then took a step forward to grab the top of my sweatpants. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth as she began to pull the pants down, easing them over my cast. I hobbled out of the pants and as she stood back up, she grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it up over her head. Following her lead, I grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked it up over my head before tossing it on the floor in the growing pile of clothes. Steph made fast work of her panties and bra before I had a chance to fully appreciate the cream colored lace and then took my hand in hers pulling us toward the shower.

She pushed me under the spray and the feel of the water running down my body was a pleasure I'd forgotten how much I loved. She grabbed a wash cloth and soaped it up until it was foamy with suds. "Stand there and let me get you clean all over," she commanded. I would have liked to have made a funny comment in return, but the thought of her touching me everywhere made me unable to form even a simple sentence, let alone one that was witty.

She started at my shoulder, and working the cloth in small circles like she was waxing a car, she worked her way down my chest to my waist. Just as I thought she was about to get to the place I most wanted her to be, she put her hands on my shoulders and spun me around to repeat her work on my back. I shut my eyes and couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be taken care of like this. My reasons for not wanting Steph to see me at the VA were completely gone now. Weak or not, I loved her taking care of me and wouldn't trade this for anything.

She worked quickly down my back, over my ass, and down the backs of my good leg. Then she spun me back around and worked her way back up from my feet, up my knee and thigh before smiling up at me. She gave me a little push to lean me against the wall of the shower. "Shut your eyes, and don't open them," she commanded.

I did as she asked and let my eyes close. As soon as my vision was gone I felt her hands washing my hips before moving to the area she referred to my private parts. My eyes opened and her face went from a light smile to a harsh scowl. "I thought I told you not to open your eyes. I'm not done yet, but if you're watching I'm not going to do anything else."

Sweet Jesus, we'd only shared a couple of nights together, and they were incredible with tenderness and love. We hadn't had enough time to explore all our desires, so her having a dominating side was a bit of a surprise. Even more of a shock was the fact that I immediately shut my eyes in obedience to her command, and I could feel myself harden when she said, "Very good."

Then I felt her hands move from my thigh up to grip my erection. I drew a breath in with a loud hiss as my hips moved forward on their own. "Relax," she whispered with her lips brushing over my head. "Let me do all the work."

I'd let her do anything she wanted to right now. Her warm mouth drew one of my balls in, and I couldn't figure out what to do with my hands. It was like being fifteen all over again. I flattened my palms against the wet tile and hoped enough suction would form to keep them from shifting. After thoroughly stimulating my balls she licked slowly from the base to the tip of my shaft, and I heard a groan come out of my mouth that was unlike any sound I'd ever made before.

Then she placed her lips right over the tip of my head and sucked off the small amount of moisture there. "Oh Steph…" I wanted to say something, but my mind still wasn't working. One hand jerked from the wall and gripped her hair. I was tempted to open my eyes when she opened her mouth and drew me in deeply, but there was no way I was going to give her a reason to stop.

I'd fantasized about being in her mouth for months, but my dreams certainly didn't do justice to how it really felt. It was hot and wet, and she knew exactly how to alternate the suction and pressure to make me think I was going to lose my mind.

Just as I thought it couldn't get any better, she drew me in slightly deeper and grabbed my balls. Without my permission my other hand flew off the wall and gripped her head. I didn't want to overwhelm her throat, but my hips were moving of their own accord. She hummed a sound of satisfaction, which just took me even higher. "I can't take much more," I warned her.

She released me long enough to say, "Then let go." With that command she pulled me back into her mouth, using her hand around my base to take care of what her mouth couldn't accommodate. Her other free hand continued to massage and grip my balls while my hips began to thrust with more purpose. She hummed again, a long moaning sound, and I lost my mind completely, thrusting harder and faster. Too soon I felt the heat that had pooled in my groin begin to overwhelm me, and I came long and hard into her mouth. She took everything I had to give and continued to suck me dry until my hands relaxed in her hair, giving her the ability to pull back.

She didn't seem to be in a hurry and slowly sucked her way back, making my good knee buckle. Thank goodness my cast gave me enough support to keep from collapsing. I felt like I was spinning and wondered if I should open my eyes. I could feel her kissing her way up my stomach and chest. She stood up fully in front of me and then said, "You can open your eyes if you want to now."

I lifted my lids slowly and couldn't stop the smile when my eyes focused on her slightly flushed, moist face. My hands cupped her cheeks, and I leaned down to put my lips on hers. "You are the most beautiful thing I've even seen," I told her before kissing her with everything in me.

One of the many reasons I loved Steph was the way she did everything with her whole heart. Standing in the shower with her body pressed against mine, I could feel her heart pouring love over me. As clearly as if she were talking I understood how she felt, and for some unknown reason God had chosen to bless me by letting her emotions mirror my own.

I loved this woman unlike anything I thought was possible. Everything about her from her crazy hair and deep blue eyes, to the way she refused to back down from a challenge, and the fierce way she fought to protect me in my sleep was amazing to me. I felt in many ways like I knew her better than anyone else in the world, and at the same time I felt like I could spend every night talking to her and I would still be learning new secrets. She was my whole heart, and the gratitude I felt for being spared so that I could have more time to love her was more than I could stand.

I was so thankful to be in the shower so that I had an excuse for the wet streaks on my face. Despite the warm spray running over both of us, I knew the tears on my face were a direct result of this woman in my arms.

When it got to be too much I moved to pull her tightly against my chest to hug her to me and try to get my breathing back to some form of normal. We stood there clinging to each other for a few minutes until she said, "I'm sorry to cry on you. I'm just so overwhelmed with joy that you're alive and we have the rest of our lives to be together. I need you Lester Santos, and it scares me how much I've come to rely on you."

I ran my hands up and down her smooth back and replied, "Oh Beautiful, I feel the same way." The ache I felt reading her letters was in my chest once more, but I recognized it for what it was now. My heart was so full of love for her that it was swelling and overflowing.

Then I felt the need to encourage her. "Don't be scared though Steph. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I want to be the one to give it to you."

"Do you promise?" She asked not in a challenging way, but in a way that let me know that she just needed the reassurance.

I heard the words of Shea echoing in my head, threatening me not to make promises that I couldn't keep. Before I could freak out too much about that my heart revealed the truth to me. This was a promise I could definitely make. For the rest of my life I knew I would be with her, and if it was possible I would give her anything she desired. "I promised it at our wedding, and it's even more true now. I love you Stephanie Santos, and I'll spend the rest of my life finding new ways to prove it to you."

I didn't need anything else to have a full life. I realized that my whole world was right there in my arms.