Diana got home at the same time as Sanderson, she opened her car door and hung her feet out. Looking at her once white sneakers, which had been covered with blood, which had dried and turned her once white sneakers brown.
She looked at the sneakers as Sanderson came around her car, and hung in the open drivers side door.
"Another pair? Why do these people keep bleeding on you?" He teased.
Diana made a face, she then declared, "I think they're contaminated."
He smiled, then knelt down on the cold driveway and took out his knife. In the dark he cut the laces with his knife, which allowed Diana to simply kick them off. So neither of them had to touch the laces.
Diana then climbed out of the car and ran up the driveway with socked feet.
Sanderson followed her, seeing all the lights off next-door , which meant the kids, were all asleep.
Diana left the door open for him as she walked in the house. Too tired to do anything more then climb in bed, but she knew she had to take a shower. She wouldn't go in the nursery until she was clean.
Sanderson followed her in the house, he noticed her neck, "How did blood get on your neck?"
Diana reached back and her fingers found dried blood, she winced, "Don't ask."
He didn't, dressed in the camos he had left the house in, Sanderson hit the light switch for the kitchen.
Only then did he see how filthy Diana was, he knew he was dirty, but it had been a while since he had been that dirty. "Why don't you hit the shower first?"
Diana turned, she looked at him, then looked down at herself.
Seeing the dried blood on her clothes and skin.
Sanderson could see the painful wince on Diana's face, he could see pain on her face. Diana wiped her stained hands on her scrubs, only to find they would not wipe clean.
Sanderson walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, "Come on."
She let him lead her through the house, to the only bathroom in the house.
"Bad night," he softly asked.
"It sucked," Diana muttered, as he hit the light switch in the bathroom. The bathroom filled with light and she sighed. She knew the blood that covered her was not going to infect either of them, or she would not have let him touch her.
"How was your night," she asked, watching as he walked around her and started the shower.
The grunt he made told her all she needed to know.
Sanderson started the shower and turned to her, to see she hadn't moved from her spot by the sink. A part of him didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay in the bathroom with her, even if it was on the toilet seat.
She really didn't want to be alone. So she asked, "Would you stay?"
Sanderson nodded, "Yeah."
She stepped closer to him, wanting to be touched, held. "Look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea, or be mislead. But I don't want to be alone. But…I am just not in the mood anymore."
To her surprise, Sanderson cupped her face with his hands, ignoring the small bloody handprint on her temple. He softly kissed her lips, "I'm not sixteen, I can control myself." Diana enjoyed the soft touch, she leant against his strong body, utterly exhausted.
He softly kissed her again, then lifted the purple scrub top up and over her head, and then the long sleeve shirt she had on underneath it.
Suddenly, it dawned on him, he had heard over his radio as he had returned to the base. "You worked that American Tour Bus accident?"
Diana answered him with a nod.
With gentle hands he untied the strings on her pants, and let the scrubs fall to the floor. He helped her out of the rest of her clothes. It had been something he had wanted for the past three months, the closeness. He wanted to hold her and comfort her. He tossed the clothes on the floor.
Diana gently set her hand on his arm, "I don't want to be alone."
He nodded and told, "Ok. I'll be right in." She held his eyes and then went in the warm shower. She could have had the water a few degrees hotter, but she didn't want to burn him.
Diana stood under the water and let her hair get soaked. She let the warm water run over her body and watched the tinted water run down the drain. She rubbed her hands together and watched the blood come off in flakes.
She rubbed her hands together harder, wanting the blood off.
She wanted to forget what she had seen at work. But she knew it would be seared in her memory, it was one of the things she would never forget.
When Sanderson climbed in the shower he had a washcloth in hand.
Even though it was a small shower stall, neither of them minded. He picked a bar of soap from the shelf built into the shower wall. There were a dozen half full bottles of shampoo, body wash with various cartoons on the bottles, and seven different colored bars of soap.
Along with three Barbie's, two plastic boats, and a rubber duck.
Expertly, neither of them stepped on anything.
Sanderson lathered up the washcloth while she picked at the stubborn spots of blood. Finally he ran his hand over her back, Diana glanced up, he softly told her, "Close your eyes."
With complete trust she listened.
The soapy washcloth ran over her face, Sanderson gently rubbed her face until it was clean, then her ears and neck. He cupped his hands with water and gently splashed the pinkish brown suds from her face.
When he began to scrub her hands she opened her eyes and watched.
She watched the way he gently scrubbed her hands, wrists and arms. With slow soothing motions. Then her chest, breasts, and waist. When he came to her back he didn't walk around her, instead, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her and cleaned her back.
Diana closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. She enjoyed the soft feel of his skin, something she had never felt. She found she fit nicely against his chest. He was taller then her, but about the same height as Hoot. Just not as broad across the shoulders and chest.
When Sanderson finished with her back he didn't want to move.
He didn't want her to move away from him, so he whispered in her ear, "Move with me."
Together, they turned, so her back was under the water.
Sanderson wrung out the cloth and began to run it over her waist. Diana closed her eyes, she waited until he was finished till she opened them. She took the washcloth from him, "Let me."
Sanderson watched her take a bar of soap from the side of the shower, he watched her lather the washcloth up, and then put the soap back.
Her hands were much more skilled then his, while she was gentle, she was also a beautiful woman touching him in the shower. Diana took her time running the soft cloth over every inch of his stomach. Every muscle and scar.
When she got to his back she found the muscles were tight.
Both tentively, and expertly, she began to knead the tight muscles. When she heard the soft moans coming from him she was glad she remembered everything from the massage classes she took in college. Expertly she massaged and loosened the tight muscles in his back and neck, and then shoulders.
When she finished, Diana fell forward, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his back.
Simply enjoying the feel and smell of his skin.
Only when the water run cold did they climb out of the shower. Sanderson wrapped a towel around Diana, and then went in the bedroom to get her pajamas. He went through his dresser and found a grey t-shirt that didn't have any holes, and a pair of boxers he had gotten for Christmas as a joke from his cousin. They were covered with a green camoflaudged pattern.
Before he went in the bathroom he pulled on a pair of blue sweatpants. Just to be safe.
He had kept himself under control in the shower, but only because he was more concerned with comforting her. He found a plastic bag in his trash bin, which he brought with him into the bathroom.
Just in time to see Diana begin to dry her hair.
She glanced up at him and smiled, her face was tired. He put the pajamas for her on the counter, then began to collect her bloody work clothes, "Did you want anything from the kitchen? I'm gonna go toss this in the garage and lock the house up."
Diana shook her head, she watched him stand up and look over at her. Sanderson leant over and kissed her temple, "My back feels better then it has felt in months."
The first smile he had seen since she came over came over her face. It made him feel great, that smile alone made his night.