He helps her out of the truck and into the chair and they start to unpack and move stuff in. James is amazed at the level of prowess that she has shown with the wheelchair. "Where did you learn to use a wheelchair so easily?"
"I was confined to a wheelchair for about six and a half months when I was in the Air Force, before I switched over to the Army, after surgery on my back because of injuries sustained while I was growing up. It's like riding a bike, you don't forget."
"Oh. Cool."
When they finally get the last boxes unloaded and into the house and a few of them unpacked, James carries her up the stairs to the master bedroom. "I want you to do the decorating, just like any housewife would. Do it the way you want it. If you want to hire someone, we can do that, too. I just want you to be happy. We could buy this house, after the mission, if you like it."
She looks at him with surprise in her eyes, and a bit of wariness. He helps her make the bed, and they finish in less than twenty minutes.
Almost as soon as they finish, the doorbell rings. He carries her back down the stairs and into the living room where they had left her wheelchair. Then he goes to answer the door.
A few of their new neighbors are standing on the porch, welcoming them to the neighborhood. Cadie, seated in the wheelchair, rolls over to meet them, and invites them in for coffee.
The group sits around the living room, while Cadie hangs out in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee for everyone else and a cup of hot tea for herself. She unpacks a set of coffee mugs and puts them on a tray. She puts the carafe of coffee on the tray also, placing a mug of hot tea in the cup holder that she had attached to her chair.
As she rolls slowly into the living room, James jumps up to take the tray from her lap. She hands it to him, and he passes out the cups and pours the coffee as she maneuvers over and sets the brakes on her chair.
She stays pretty quiet for most of the conversation and lets him take the lead. The group makes small talk for a little while, with the neighbors giving the couple information and directions to where things can be found. Soon after it gets dark, the neighbors leave, giving them promises of invitations to parties and get-togethers to come. Soon after that, the pair decides to go to bed.
James once again carries Cadie up the stairs, and this time he places her on the small chair of her vanity while he goes into the bathroom and runs her a bath. He helps her undress and carries her to the bathroom and gently lowers her into the bathtub.
She scoots up near the faucet to take advantage of the heat from the water and doesn't notice him undressing until he climbs into the tub with her.
She hastily turns around, shocked. He laughs and pulls her into his lap. "If you're going to be my wife, and you're going to be in a wheelchair, we'd better get used to getting in the bath together. Besides, I'm wearing shorts."
She slips her hand down to find out that he was telling the truth. "I won't do anything that you're not ready for, Little Bit. If we do do anything, it will be because you want it as badly as I do," he tells her softly.
She blushes and looks down, embarrassed. He puts his hand underneath her chin and tenderly lifts her face to look into her eyes. "I understand. You're afraid because of what some people have done to you in the past."
"You have no idea, James. I'm t-t-terrified of people. I'm scared to death of being in a group, I can't handle parties, I refuse to go to dances and banquets are off limits to me, and I'm not too keen on being with people, period. I'm tired of going somewhere and then someone screaming and running away the other direction because I'm so fat, ugly, and stupid."
He holds her closer. "No way, honey. You're so beautiful that I saw most of the guys wanting to hate me because I was chosen to work with you on this mission. And I have never seen anyone as slim as you and still healthy. I'll bet you don't weigh one hundred ten pounds soaking wet. I know your pain, little one. I knew it from the first time I saw you up close in the dojo after you took me down. I'll try to help you all I can. You're under my protection now, remember that. In the meantime, let's just get used to doing things like a married couple, which includes sharing a bathtub until you're healed." He grins wickedly at her.
"Actually, I weigh ninety-six pounds dripping water with a wet towel wrapped around my hair."
His jaw drops as he listens to her admission. Only ninety-six pounds? She couldn't be serious! No wonder it felt like he was carrying a small child whenever he picked her up. He reaches past her to retrieve the bottle of shower gel on the rim of the tub. Then, he pours some on his hand and starts washing her back. He uses gentle strokes as he remembers the wounds on her back are not fully healed and are still tender. He can feel the tension in her muscles.
"When was the last time you relaxed, babe?"
"I can't remember, I don't think I ever have. The way I grew up, I never knew where or when the next blow would fall, so I had to be ready for action at any second."
He grouses to himself for a couple of moments as he rinses the soap off of her back, wondering how any parent could be so cruel as hers had been. He knew that if they ever had a chance of becoming a couple for longer than this mission, it would take lots of time and patience on his part.
He then trades the shower gel for a cup and a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, and fills a cup with water and wets her hair. He massages some of the shampoo into her hair and gently starts to wash it.
She sits there quietly, letting him work some magic of his own for a few minutes. "James, what's wrong with me?" She softly asks him.
He looks at her strangely, thinking that she was referring to the wounds.
"Why didn't my mama ever want me? Why did she always treat me like a piece of no good gutter trash? Why do people try to get rid of me as quickly as they can?"
"Oh, jeez. No wonder she's afraid of people and feels like an outsider. The one person that should have loved her and made things all right hated her. She feels so worthless because she was never welcome at home and was always criticized no matter what. No wonder she works so hard. She thinks she has to work to win people's approval, that they won't like her if she doesn't work so hard. She was always on the outside looking in, even in her own family. Now I see why she can't remember ever relaxing, and why she's now a workaholic," he thinks.
"She was just jealous of you. She realized that you would one day be better looking and more powerful than she ever could have imagined being. Hold still for a moment. I'm going to try something."
He puts his hands lightly on her shoulders and chants something under his breath to himself as he begins to softly knead the tense muscles. The skin under his hands grows hot and she feels like it spreads to the rest of her body.
She had never mentioned it to him that the pain was getting strong, but somehow, he had known. She now felt like it had lessened considerably, but it was still enough to keep her tense and awake.
"Do you need some painkillers, darling?" he asks her, lovingly, pointing past her head to a microphone that had just been stuck to the bathroom window.
"Do we still have some? I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight without some help," she answers, going along with it for the benefit of the listener.
"I think Dr. Steen knew what he was doing when he packed it in with your other medications. I'll go get them as soon as we're out of here." He lowers his voice to where only she could hear him. "I need to take my shorts off because someone is watching, and then I'll get us out of here. Feel free to look if you want."
He watches her blush again as her jaw drops and he chuckles. He wriggles out of his shorts and stands up, picking her up as he rises. He sets her standing with his arm for support as he gets a towel and wraps it around her. He lifts her back up and carries her into the bedroom where he places her on the stool in front of her vanity. He then coolly walks back into the bathroom and gets a towel for himself, knowing that her eyes are following his every movement.
"Mmmm, no wonder they call him Grand Slam. That's the biggest bat I've ever seen. I wonder what it would be like to..." she begins to think.
He strolls over to the corner of the master bedroom and roots around in one of the boxes for the painkillers that Lifeline had packed for her.
"Oh, jeez," he groans. "You think you can handle my clumsy butt giving you an injection? That's all he packed. I thought that he said that there were some pills in here."
"I told him not to pack the pills. They're too easy to get addicted to. I know from experience. Someone else's, not mine. Hurry up and get it over with."
"Good thing that he pre-filled these. I'm no good at eyeballing small measurements like this. I know this will hurt, but please, don't do anything too extreme."
He comes over to her and decides to use the syringe on her left thigh. He preps her leg, propping it across his knees and she reaches up to hold his shoulders as he sticks the needle in. He feels her tighten her grip for a second and then remembers how long it will take for the medicine to kick in.
He hurries over to her suitcase and pulls out a pair of white lace underwear and a chaste cotton nightgown that he finds on top and feels himself getting hard as his imagination starts working overtime. He helps her put them on before he tucks her into bed, already drowsy, the painkillers already taking effect.
He tucks the blankets around her as he hears the doorbell ring again. He swears under his breath, hoping that Cadie wouldn't wake up. With a tired sigh, he wearily goes downstairs to answer the door, finding a woman alone on the porch.
She is obviously past her prime, but it appeared that she hadn't noticed yet. James took note of the fact that she wore too much make-up, and way too much perfume, as he could smell it before he'd opened the door.
"Can I help you?" he asks her. He didn't recognize the woman as Spitfyre's mother, who had broken out of the stockade and was out to start any trouble she could since they had thwarted her on the base.
"No, hot stuff, but maybe I can help you. I see that your wife there is paralyzed, and ugly as hell. I know she can't be giving you the kind of pleasure that you want and need like I can. You know you want me." She comes towards him, but he backs off.
He looks at her critically, "Yeah, you're right. I want you. I want you off my porch and gone," he says as he shuts the door in her face and locks it.
"Brazen little hussy. I'm a happily married man, even if my wife is a paraplegic, and we're not really married in anything more than name. It's more than just sex to me. It's also companionship, humor, and intellect, all the things that Cadie has, not to mention her innocence," he thinks.
He checks the peephole and discovers the woman is still there. He decides that if she is still there in five minutes, he'll go call the cops. He goes to both the side door into the garage and the back door of the house, making sure they are locked. When he comes back to the front door, the woman is gone, but she had left him a message on the porch. He goes out and picks up the note, reading it and made the decision to keep it, as it looked like the kind of thing a stalker would write.
He adjusts the towel around his waist and mounts the stairs to the master bedroom. He pulls on a pair of boxer briefs and slides into the bed with Cadie. He leans down and kisses her, thinking how perfect she would have been for the role of Sleeping Beauty and how lousy a Prince Charming he would be. He holds her close all night, hoping that when she finds out about him, that she will be brave and strong enough to handle it.
What he doesn't know is that the painkillers had already worn off, and Cadie had become somewhat conscious and is thinking the same thing about him. She drifts back to sleep and cuddles up to him as close as she can, knowing that her time with him is short, and that her dreams are about to get dashed once again, soon.
"I was confined to a wheelchair for about six and a half months when I was in the Air Force, before I switched over to the Army, after surgery on my back because of injuries sustained while I was growing up. It's like riding a bike, you don't forget."
"Oh. Cool."
When they finally get the last boxes unloaded and into the house and a few of them unpacked, James carries her up the stairs to the master bedroom. "I want you to do the decorating, just like any housewife would. Do it the way you want it. If you want to hire someone, we can do that, too. I just want you to be happy. We could buy this house, after the mission, if you like it."
She looks at him with surprise in her eyes, and a bit of wariness. He helps her make the bed, and they finish in less than twenty minutes.
Almost as soon as they finish, the doorbell rings. He carries her back down the stairs and into the living room where they had left her wheelchair. Then he goes to answer the door.
A few of their new neighbors are standing on the porch, welcoming them to the neighborhood. Cadie, seated in the wheelchair, rolls over to meet them, and invites them in for coffee.
The group sits around the living room, while Cadie hangs out in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee for everyone else and a cup of hot tea for herself. She unpacks a set of coffee mugs and puts them on a tray. She puts the carafe of coffee on the tray also, placing a mug of hot tea in the cup holder that she had attached to her chair.
As she rolls slowly into the living room, James jumps up to take the tray from her lap. She hands it to him, and he passes out the cups and pours the coffee as she maneuvers over and sets the brakes on her chair.
She stays pretty quiet for most of the conversation and lets him take the lead. The group makes small talk for a little while, with the neighbors giving the couple information and directions to where things can be found. Soon after it gets dark, the neighbors leave, giving them promises of invitations to parties and get-togethers to come. Soon after that, the pair decides to go to bed.
James once again carries Cadie up the stairs, and this time he places her on the small chair of her vanity while he goes into the bathroom and runs her a bath. He helps her undress and carries her to the bathroom and gently lowers her into the bathtub.
She scoots up near the faucet to take advantage of the heat from the water and doesn't notice him undressing until he climbs into the tub with her.
She hastily turns around, shocked. He laughs and pulls her into his lap. "If you're going to be my wife, and you're going to be in a wheelchair, we'd better get used to getting in the bath together. Besides, I'm wearing shorts."
She slips her hand down to find out that he was telling the truth. "I won't do anything that you're not ready for, Little Bit. If we do do anything, it will be because you want it as badly as I do," he tells her softly.
She blushes and looks down, embarrassed. He puts his hand underneath her chin and tenderly lifts her face to look into her eyes. "I understand. You're afraid because of what some people have done to you in the past."
"You have no idea, James. I'm t-t-terrified of people. I'm scared to death of being in a group, I can't handle parties, I refuse to go to dances and banquets are off limits to me, and I'm not too keen on being with people, period. I'm tired of going somewhere and then someone screaming and running away the other direction because I'm so fat, ugly, and stupid."
He holds her closer. "No way, honey. You're so beautiful that I saw most of the guys wanting to hate me because I was chosen to work with you on this mission. And I have never seen anyone as slim as you and still healthy. I'll bet you don't weigh one hundred ten pounds soaking wet. I know your pain, little one. I knew it from the first time I saw you up close in the dojo after you took me down. I'll try to help you all I can. You're under my protection now, remember that. In the meantime, let's just get used to doing things like a married couple, which includes sharing a bathtub until you're healed." He grins wickedly at her.
"Actually, I weigh ninety-six pounds dripping water with a wet towel wrapped around my hair."
His jaw drops as he listens to her admission. Only ninety-six pounds? She couldn't be serious! No wonder it felt like he was carrying a small child whenever he picked her up. He reaches past her to retrieve the bottle of shower gel on the rim of the tub. Then, he pours some on his hand and starts washing her back. He uses gentle strokes as he remembers the wounds on her back are not fully healed and are still tender. He can feel the tension in her muscles.
"When was the last time you relaxed, babe?"
"I can't remember, I don't think I ever have. The way I grew up, I never knew where or when the next blow would fall, so I had to be ready for action at any second."
He grouses to himself for a couple of moments as he rinses the soap off of her back, wondering how any parent could be so cruel as hers had been. He knew that if they ever had a chance of becoming a couple for longer than this mission, it would take lots of time and patience on his part.
He then trades the shower gel for a cup and a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, and fills a cup with water and wets her hair. He massages some of the shampoo into her hair and gently starts to wash it.
She sits there quietly, letting him work some magic of his own for a few minutes. "James, what's wrong with me?" She softly asks him.
He looks at her strangely, thinking that she was referring to the wounds.
"Why didn't my mama ever want me? Why did she always treat me like a piece of no good gutter trash? Why do people try to get rid of me as quickly as they can?"
"Oh, jeez. No wonder she's afraid of people and feels like an outsider. The one person that should have loved her and made things all right hated her. She feels so worthless because she was never welcome at home and was always criticized no matter what. No wonder she works so hard. She thinks she has to work to win people's approval, that they won't like her if she doesn't work so hard. She was always on the outside looking in, even in her own family. Now I see why she can't remember ever relaxing, and why she's now a workaholic," he thinks.
"She was just jealous of you. She realized that you would one day be better looking and more powerful than she ever could have imagined being. Hold still for a moment. I'm going to try something."
He puts his hands lightly on her shoulders and chants something under his breath to himself as he begins to softly knead the tense muscles. The skin under his hands grows hot and she feels like it spreads to the rest of her body.
She had never mentioned it to him that the pain was getting strong, but somehow, he had known. She now felt like it had lessened considerably, but it was still enough to keep her tense and awake.
"Do you need some painkillers, darling?" he asks her, lovingly, pointing past her head to a microphone that had just been stuck to the bathroom window.
"Do we still have some? I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight without some help," she answers, going along with it for the benefit of the listener.
"I think Dr. Steen knew what he was doing when he packed it in with your other medications. I'll go get them as soon as we're out of here." He lowers his voice to where only she could hear him. "I need to take my shorts off because someone is watching, and then I'll get us out of here. Feel free to look if you want."
He watches her blush again as her jaw drops and he chuckles. He wriggles out of his shorts and stands up, picking her up as he rises. He sets her standing with his arm for support as he gets a towel and wraps it around her. He lifts her back up and carries her into the bedroom where he places her on the stool in front of her vanity. He then coolly walks back into the bathroom and gets a towel for himself, knowing that her eyes are following his every movement.
"Mmmm, no wonder they call him Grand Slam. That's the biggest bat I've ever seen. I wonder what it would be like to..." she begins to think.
He strolls over to the corner of the master bedroom and roots around in one of the boxes for the painkillers that Lifeline had packed for her.
"Oh, jeez," he groans. "You think you can handle my clumsy butt giving you an injection? That's all he packed. I thought that he said that there were some pills in here."
"I told him not to pack the pills. They're too easy to get addicted to. I know from experience. Someone else's, not mine. Hurry up and get it over with."
"Good thing that he pre-filled these. I'm no good at eyeballing small measurements like this. I know this will hurt, but please, don't do anything too extreme."
He comes over to her and decides to use the syringe on her left thigh. He preps her leg, propping it across his knees and she reaches up to hold his shoulders as he sticks the needle in. He feels her tighten her grip for a second and then remembers how long it will take for the medicine to kick in.
He hurries over to her suitcase and pulls out a pair of white lace underwear and a chaste cotton nightgown that he finds on top and feels himself getting hard as his imagination starts working overtime. He helps her put them on before he tucks her into bed, already drowsy, the painkillers already taking effect.
He tucks the blankets around her as he hears the doorbell ring again. He swears under his breath, hoping that Cadie wouldn't wake up. With a tired sigh, he wearily goes downstairs to answer the door, finding a woman alone on the porch.
She is obviously past her prime, but it appeared that she hadn't noticed yet. James took note of the fact that she wore too much make-up, and way too much perfume, as he could smell it before he'd opened the door.
"Can I help you?" he asks her. He didn't recognize the woman as Spitfyre's mother, who had broken out of the stockade and was out to start any trouble she could since they had thwarted her on the base.
"No, hot stuff, but maybe I can help you. I see that your wife there is paralyzed, and ugly as hell. I know she can't be giving you the kind of pleasure that you want and need like I can. You know you want me." She comes towards him, but he backs off.
He looks at her critically, "Yeah, you're right. I want you. I want you off my porch and gone," he says as he shuts the door in her face and locks it.
"Brazen little hussy. I'm a happily married man, even if my wife is a paraplegic, and we're not really married in anything more than name. It's more than just sex to me. It's also companionship, humor, and intellect, all the things that Cadie has, not to mention her innocence," he thinks.
He checks the peephole and discovers the woman is still there. He decides that if she is still there in five minutes, he'll go call the cops. He goes to both the side door into the garage and the back door of the house, making sure they are locked. When he comes back to the front door, the woman is gone, but she had left him a message on the porch. He goes out and picks up the note, reading it and made the decision to keep it, as it looked like the kind of thing a stalker would write.
He adjusts the towel around his waist and mounts the stairs to the master bedroom. He pulls on a pair of boxer briefs and slides into the bed with Cadie. He leans down and kisses her, thinking how perfect she would have been for the role of Sleeping Beauty and how lousy a Prince Charming he would be. He holds her close all night, hoping that when she finds out about him, that she will be brave and strong enough to handle it.
What he doesn't know is that the painkillers had already worn off, and Cadie had become somewhat conscious and is thinking the same thing about him. She drifts back to sleep and cuddles up to him as close as she can, knowing that her time with him is short, and that her dreams are about to get dashed once again, soon.