Notes

First of all, I want to thank everyone who has read (or is still reading) my fic, leaving reviews and validation muffins! Secondly, I am hoping the next two instalments (including this one) will not be too OOC. So fair warning; they might be? I tried my best to keep it in character, whilst adding a bit of 'canoodling.'

Oh, also; my beta is very busy at the moment, so all mistakes in this fic are mine, and mine alone.

I'm also working on a new fic…

CHAPTER 3 – I wouldn't dream of it

When Michaela slowly opened her eyes to narrow slits, she felt disoriented.

It was very dark, and she was decidedly not in her bed at the homestead.

She was definitely outside, but for some reason, she was very warm, and her body felt heavy and relaxed. It was almost comfortable, if only the ground weren't so hard on her back.

She vaguely recalled her mission to get a water sample.

Her muddled brain noticed the rain had stopped.

That was good. She'd be able to travel again in the morning.

Why was she so warm?

She didn't ponder the thought – not fully conscious – pulled the blanket tighter around her, closed her eyes again and snuggled back into the source of the heat.

The blanket smelled of home.

Floating around the edges of consciousness, Michaela found herself in a pleasant state of drowsy slumber.

She was dreaming.

She was sitting at the foot of a very large tree, resting on its roots. She was dressed in only her undergarments, but this did not unnerve her. Dreams very often made very little sense. She felt peaceful, and at ease.

Sully was there, as well. She could not see him, but she sensed his reassuring presence nearby.

They'd crossed a river earlier and their clothes were laying out in the sun to dry. It had been a couple of hours now, and she'd busied herself by staring straight ahead so as to give the two of them a modicum of privacy, talking to Sully as he moved around behind her – definitely not contemplating his possible state of undress – and wondering what they would discover, once they'd obtained their water sample. She hoped to God they would be making it out of here alive…

Sully's voice interrupted her reveries.

"For someone who's nearly helpless, you did good."

Was that a compliment? Michaela felt herself flush at his praise.

"We were lucky," she replied, voice slightly shaky.

"Cheyenne would say you have a debt on me," he said – referring to her rescue mission earlier that day when she'd dragged his unconscious body to safety – and she smiled to herself. How many times had he saved her life already?

"We all have a debt on each other," she stated. A light gust of wind made her aware of her state of undress, and self-consciousness crept in. She turned slightly towards Sully. "Do you think the clothes are dry?" she asked in a thin voice, trying not to sound nervous.

"Dunno, I'll check," he said, then added "Don't. Look," in clipped tones as she heard him moving from the tree to the river bank.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she blurted out, cheekily, before she could help herself.

She found she also had difficulty containing her curious nature.

It was as if his prohibition made her want to do it all the more.

Carefully, so as not to arouse his suspicion, she turned her head and upper body in his direction, sneaking a peek at him over her shoulder. He was just bending down to grab their garments, and she noted the small blanket he had tied around his waist. It was slung dangerously low on his hips, outlining his shape. When her eyes landed on his toned backside, the cloth pulled tight around it, she could feel her cheeks burning, but she did not look away until the last possible moment. It wouldn't do for her to get caught… ogling a man she, quite frankly, still knew very little of.

Then again, she had known her mother her whole life, and still felt as though she hardly knew the woman at all. Sully already felt familiar, as though she'd met him years ago and they had been friends ever since.

They were friends. Weren't they?

Quickly, she turned around to safety when she sensed his approach, getting up from the tree roots and facing away from him. Reaching behind her with her uninjured arm, she waited until she felt him nearby, pushing articles of clothing into her hand. Turning around, she saw he had averted his eyes, and she had to force herself to focus on the blouse he was offering her, rather than stare at his broad, naked chest. She had never seen him without his shirt before, and the sight of so much bare, tanned skin on display was awfully distracting.

"Keep your eyes shut," she told him in no uncertain terms, knowing she was a downright hypocrite for even asking, when she herself had not been able to resist casting surreptitious glances at him.

Sully did as she asked, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as she took her proffered blouse from him.

Michaela managed to get her injured wrist into the sleeve, then struggled but managed to pull her blouse on. She thought she could feel his burning eyes, roaming over her body, but she dismissed it as foolish thoughts. She soon realised, however, that she could not do up the buttons with just one hand.

She didn't give it much thought, her practical nature taking over. Asking him was going to be nerve-racking, but walking around in just her undergarments was hardly an option. She was going to have to get dressed at some point.

"Could you do up the buttons?" she asked Sully, who turned around and opened his eyes when she addressed him in a small voice, surprise evident on his face.

He approached her, and she could feel her stomach drop as her heart leapt into her throat.

Sully visibly faltered, fumbling as he tried to decide where to start, reaching for the top button first but quickly deciding against it when his hands came near her suddenly sensitive bosom.

As he got started on buttoning the lowest button, Michaela tried to look anywhere but into his eyes, or at his capable hands, as they swiftly and efficiently completed their task of buttoning up her shirt. She'd never known anything so… stimulating. She wondered if he could feel her heart, beating irregularly in her chest. She had to bite her lip when his fingers inadvertently brushed against her breastbone, pushing the final button through its hole.

She clasped his hand in hers for one brief moment, intimately holding it against her chest, before letting go.

"Thank you," she whispered, as she put her injured arm back into the sling.

"You're welcome," he offered, his voice hoarse and tight.

His eyes did not leave hers. Why was he staring at her like that?

Before she knew what was happening, he had backed her up against the tree trunk. Her skirt was lying forgotten among the tree roots as he carefully closed the distance between them once again.

One of his hands came to rest above her head. Her own hand supported her body against the tree, as her knees threatened to buckle. She didn't feel cornered, or threatened. If anything, the need to arch her body to be closer to him was almost impossible to resist.

His free hand followed the row of the buttons on her blouse in the opposite direction it had just travelled. It passed the valley between her breasts without pausing, but she couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through her at the sudden intimate contact. She could hear his ragged breathing, his eyes focused on his hand, staring at it as though it were not his own. As though he was merely an onlooker, an observer, just as lost as she in the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to crash against their shore.

Sully continued downwards, until his hand reached her waist.

His eyes were deep, infinite pools of blue, filled to the brim with something she couldn't quite grasp, something she didn't yet understand. But she felt it, this elusive force between them, and a steady thrumming between her thighs answered the silent call of his body, as it stood so close to hers.

He didn't say anything, but ever so slowly, the hand that had been resting relatively innocently on her waist – his thumb close to her belly button – started moving the fabric of her blouse and camisole upwards. His solemn eyes were burning as they sought and made eye contact with her bicoloured ones.

Her breathing was out of control, shallow, and her breasts heaved from the effort to get some much needed air into her lungs. His eyes snapped down, noticing the rapid rising and falling of her chest, and her flesh suddenly ached with the need to touch him. To have him touch her.

Boldly, her idle hand pushed the blue bandana from his head so she could run her fingers uninhibitedly through his wavy hair. When her nails daringly raked across one side of his scalp, he growled softly, deep in his throat.

His thumb gently brushed the soft skin of her abdomen, and as his fingers tightened on her hip, she gasped when he leaned in to-

Her eyes shot wide open when she felt the skin on skin contact.

The tree, the rough bark pressing into her back, Sully's blue eyes, the gentle sound of the river, the rustle of the leaves… it had all disappeared.

The feeling of his skin on hers and the insistent throbbing in her lower abdomen, however, hadn't.

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