I leaned across the table and took his hands in mine. "Sorry, but this is too good to keep to myself." I spoke softly.

"Stop." Chris looked at me, a seriousness in his voice and eyes.

"I won't tell anyone, Chris. I'm just..."

He stood up. "It's not that." He looked around the restaurant. "I gotta go. I'll catch up with you tomorrow." I watched as he left, wondering what I had done.

Tariq was sitting up, laughing with Scream. "I still, man, think that's the best shit, you know?" He looked up at me. "Hey, CiCi."

I kissed Tariq's forehead. "I see you're feeling better."

"Yep. Doc says I'll be out of here in a couple days. Then, Sgt. Scream and I can get caught up."

Scream looked at me. "You working today?"

"Nope. Just wanted to check on my favorite patient." I stroked Tariq's hair.

"Well, then." Scream stood up and dangled some keys. "Tariq's parent's fixed his bike and he's given me permission to take it for it's first spin since its accident." He looked at Tariq. "You sure it's okay?"

"If she wants to." Tariq shrugged.

"If I want to what?" I crossed my arms, varying my gaze from one to the other.

"Go riding with me. I may need a navigator. Someone who knows this area." Chris looked at me and he playfully batted his eyes. "Please?"

I laughed. "Alright. You sure, Riqy?"

"Yeah. You deserve it. You've given up a lot to take care of me since my accident. You need to go." I leaned down and softly kissed Tariq. "Just take care of my Sergeant."

"You got it." I smiled. I didn't want to take my eyes off of Tariq. Despite the scars from the accident, his face was still soft and wonderful to look at. I traced the scar on his cheek. "You call me on my phone if you need me and Gianni's on shift today in the ER. You ask for him if you need anything, okay?"

"Yes, nurse." Tariq smiled. "Now go and have fun."

I followed Chris to Tariq's bike. "So, this is what he spent his enlistment money on?" Chris inspected the Ducati.

"Yeah. But, he also saved a lot of money. When his uncle died, he was left a lot of money, and he bought his parents a car and put a huge chunk down on this." The red Ducati was a mainstay on Thorn Street since Tariq had bought it a few years earlier. "He loves this bike."

Chris tossed me a helmet. "I can see why." He put his on. "It's going to be nice to be on a bike again."

"You own one?" I asked through the mike in the helmet.

"Yeah." He stated matter of factly.

"What kind of bike?"

He started the bike and I swore I heard him moan in pleasure. "Hold on for the ride of your life."

I wrapped my arms around his waist. I usually placed my head on Tariq's shoulder as we rode, but I couldn't bring myself at this moment to place my head on Chris's shoulders. I made note of the strength that his arms possessed as he maneuvered the bike down the parking ramp. I put the visor down as we headed out to the street. The sun was shining brightly and the weather was hot. Once we hit the street, Chris rode that bike for its worth. He tore on to the freeway, driving as recklessly safe as Tariq. I held my breath as he wove in and out of the traffic. I wrapped my arms tighter around his waist. I was used to Tariq's reckless driving, but was having a hard time getting comfortable with Chris's.

He didn't say anything as he drove, but every once in a while, he would say something like "Yeah baby!" I wanted to say something, but didn't want to distract him. He pulled off the freeway and took the corner too fast, nearly wiping us out, but he gained perfect control of the red speed monster. He pulled into McDonald's and took off his helmet. He looked back at me as I removed my helmet. "Damn! I had forgotten how much fucking speed these have." His smile was indicative of the fun he had.

I smiled back. "You've ridden a Ducati before, haven't you?" I shook my hair out.

"Yeah. I crashed mine just before I went to Iraq." He got off the bike, unaware of the women staring at him.

"You have a Ducati?"

"I did. A yellow one." He stared at me. "I named it GI Joe." He winked.

I laughed. "You know, you never said why you left so abruptly last night."

"I was tired."

"So why did you tell me to stop?" I followed him in.

"What?"

"You said 'Stop.' rather softly and I've no idea what that meant. You said it had nothing to do with me teasing you about..."

"It wasn't." He focused his attention on the menu. "What do you want to eat?"

I was getting frustrated with this Sergeant. He was getting excruciatingly evasive. I swore I was going to get it out of him one way or another.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, playfully toying with his shirt. "Come on, Chrisy boy. You can tell me." I softly baby talked to him.

He stiffened up and grabbed my hands. "What do you want to eat?" He was matter of fact as he loosened my grip.

"Nothing." I stormed out.

I was sitting on the bike when he came out. He put his soda on the ground and sat next to me. "Do you even begin to understand the power you have over men?"

"Power over men?" I was shocked. "I have no power over men whatsoever."

Chris looked at me and smiled. "But, I think there are a few men, myself included, that would argue to the contrary."

"In order to have power over men, you have to be sexy and I couldn't pull sexy off of a pole." I huffed.

"Well, I'd say you're doing a fucking good job of being sexy." He looked intently at me. "Being sexy isn't about wearing the shortest skirt with the lowest shirt. It's not about having the biggest breasts or whatever. It's about the attitude and how you affect men." He put his helmet on. "Ready?"

Again, the Sergeant frustrated me, but I put my helmet on and slid up behind him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and placed my head on his shoulder, taking in his scent. I found myself enjoying the ride, with the sun shining on my back and the breeze slightly blowing. I must have been lost in another world because I woke up when I heard Chris yell "SHIT!" and the bike hitting the ground.

Chris sat on the curb and shook his head. "How the fu..."

"It wasn't your fault, Chris." I soothed. "That pothole just came out of nowhere. It saw a bike coming and went 'I haven't been up in a couple days. Gotta make sure the sun is shining. Last thing I remember is there being snow.'"

Chris smiled. "But the bike."

"It's just a scratch. We can get it painted. There's no major damage." I patted his knee. "Let's just head to home."

He picked up the bike and looked over it. He restarted it. "Sounds good. Let's go."

The ride back was silent, broken only by laughter. We made it to my apartment and I invited Chris up for some coffee, which he readily accepted. We made my way into my apartment and he looked around. "Are you sure we're in a woman's apartment?"

"Yeah. Why?" I closed the door.

"Somehow I expected flowers and lace and silk everywhere." He placed the helmet on my couch.

"That's the bedroom." I put my helmet next to his.

"Don't tease." he grinned.

"Seriously. I had to have something in this place totally girlie and if not the bedroom, than where?" I went into the kitchen and started the coffee. "I really should look at your arm."

"My arm?" Chris was startled.

"Yeah. You got some scrapes when we slid out." I faced him.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm okay, really." His voice was a little faulty.

"You okay?"

He sighed. "I'm fine. I'm just...my arm's fine."

"I should look at it anyhow, to make sure."

"I've had worse in Iraq and trust me this is no big deal." He backed away from me and sat on my couch.

"Chris, first of all, I'm a nurse and..."

"So that would explain you working at the hospital." He grinned.

"Yes, it would." I laughed back. "Second of all, you seem a little on edge. What's wrong?" I took his arm to inspect the scrapes.

He leaned down. "I don't want stitches."

"Why not?"

"I'm scared of needles." He weakly whispered.

Still holding his arm, I looked at him. "You have got to be kidding me. You? The famous 'Sgt. Scream' who has no fears is actually afraid of needles." I couldn't help but laugh. "First, you tell me you wanted a doll. Sorry, a GI Joe and now you're telling me you're scared of needles. You are an enigma."

His face never moved. "I've been told." I looked up at him and I felt my heart racing. His face was dangerously close to mine. He leaned in closer, pressing his lips against mine. I dropped his arm and returned his kiss. As the kiss began to intensify, he pulled back. "Fuck." He looked at me. "I'm sorry. I..."

"It's okay. I kissed back." I gathered myself. "But, you're not going to need stitches. Just a bit of antiseptic will do." I excused myself as I walked back to my room. I hid my face in my hands. Had I just really kissed Tariq's Sergeant and just how far would it have gone if he hadn't pulled away? I began to wonder if it had gone further, would I have tried to stop it? Would he? I grabbed the antiseptic and cotton balls and headed back to the living room. "Okay, here we go." I watched him tense up as I put some antiseptic on his scratch. "It's okay, Chris, really. You'll be fine."

"As long as I don't need stitches and face needles." He smirked in pain as the antiseptic hit the scratch.

"I still can't get over you being scared of needles." I gently rubbed the antiseptic in his arm and put a band-aid over it. "You're this amazingly strong and brave guy and you can't face needles."

He looked at me. "Yeah. Funny how that works." There was now a nervousness in his voice and movements that wasn't present before.

I sat next to him. "It's okay, Chris. It was just a kiss."

"What would have happened if it wasn't?" He seemed to read my mind.

"But, it wasn't."

"What if..."

"No more 'what ifs', Chris. It didn't go past a kiss." I didn't admit that, despite my love for Tariq, I was lusting after his Sergeant and was wanting it to go beyond the kiss.

Chris, however, sensed this. He softly stroked my face. "Tariq loves you."

"I love him too." I shivered at his touch.

"But on the other hand..." His voice dropped off.