Hi everyone – apologies for the delay in updating (RL getting in the way again) … I'm blown away by the reader reaction to this story and the number of reviews so far. I think it must be the most popular of my fanfiction stories to date! Anyway, onwards with the story. I appreciate I left the last chapter at a bit of a moment….
FIVE YEARS
Chapter 13
She rolls over onto her side to face him, her face flushed and her body still tingling with excitement from the most exhilarating, passionate and loving sex she can ever remember having….. nothing like the aggressive, one-sided scuffles with Artan, her pig of a first boyfriend, or the small handful of crap, unfulfilling one-night shags she'd experienced before joining her first tour.
From the minute she had kissed him in the kitchen and felt his erection pressing against her, it was like someone else had taken control of her body and her actions. She had instinctively known what he liked, how to excite and tease him. There had been no awkwardness or self-consciousness from either of them. She doubts she would have made it as far as their bed if he hadn't scooped her up, in her half-undressed state and carried her upstairs such was her desire to feel him inside of her. The change of scene had allowed him to slow down the pace and as he had intimately touched, caressed and kissed her, she had felt things she didn't even know were possible. Even though she couldn't have articulated any of it, he had clearly also known what she needed, what she liked too.
"Is it always like that?"
He snorts, heaving himself onto his side to face her. He looks at her with a smug grin.
"I told you we were good together."
"That wasn't good… it was bleeding awesome."
"Well I don't want to blow my own trumpet, but…"
She laughs, and her response is automatic, "I'll take it that's not meant to be a euphemism."
He looks at her questioningly, "Do you realise what you just said?"
"Yes, but I'm not sure where it came from. I don't even know what one of them is. It sounds more like something you would say than me."
"I did say it to you on tour… we were joking around one morning.…. you were eating cocopops, I sneaked up behind you with a spoon and helped myself. For some reason you thought I might have been Sohail, and you told me….."
"That I wouldn't let him dip his spoon in my cocopops."
She realises she has a clear recollection of the incident he's recounting.
"You remember?"
"Yes."
"Well, what I said then, what you've just said, it's become one those things we say to each other."
She lies there silently remembering the moment, how they'd joked about Sohail being a well-dodge geezer, how happy she'd been that morning right up until Kinders had called them to action due to the lack of communication from the ANA boys at the mountain checkpoint. She pulls herself back to the present.
"This remembering some things and not others is weird. It's like when we were… you know.. making love just now…. I just knew what to do. I couldn't remember being like that with you before, but it felt so natural, so right. Does that sound strange?"
"Yes and no. We've always had amazing chemistry, but I guess there is a part of me, probably my ego, that hoped you might remember."
She smirks at him, flicks her eyes towards his groin, "Is that what you're calling it?"
He laughs and looks mildly abashed.
She reaches out and slowly traces a line down his chest toward his crotch, settling on the mottled scar of his gunshot wound before starting to place light kisses on the surrounding skin, causing him to suck in an involuntary deep breath, as he feels his body starting to bristle with renewed expectation.
She pauses briefly and looks up at him, "I think we might gonna need to go again … just to help me remember…"
She moves on to his developing erection, feathering kisses along its length before taking him in her mouth. He places one hand gently behind her head, in a vain attempt to control things.
He groans, "Christ, Molly"
She pulls back, "Should I stop?"
"No, please don't ever stop."
-OG-
She wakes up first, early the next morning, nestled into his chest, with his arm protectively cuddling her body. She lays still for a while, embracing the joint feelings of safety and delight at how things have progressed since she has come home. Whilst it has been far from easy for either of them, cautiously working their way through the challenging situation they're in, she knows last night was hugely significant in terms of rediscovering their relationship. Being with him both literally and physically feels just perfect.
Eventually she reluctantly acknowledges the uncomfortable pressing feeling on her bladder and knows she needs to extract herself from his embrace. She slowly slides out of bed, carefully avoiding waking him. She wanders along the corridor and into the bathroom. She goes to the toilet and is washing her hands when she catches her reflection in the mirror. She runs her hand through her messy hair and realises she looks exactly like someone who has been up half the night, engaged in a marathon shagging session…. dishevelled doesn't even begin to cover it. She's aware that she has that distinctive, morning after, sex smell too.
She turns on the shower, waits for the water to reach the perfect temperature and steps under the waterfall. She stands, with her eyes closed, enjoying the water cascade over her body when, all of a sudden, she feels his arms wrap around her from behind as he places a kiss on her neck. She turns to face him as he effortlessly lifts her, presses her back against the wall of the shower and plants hungry kisses on her lips. She wraps her legs around his body, returns his kisses and welcomes him.
He briefly pauses his assault to whisper in her ear, "Morning, Dawesy."
-OG-
She's lounging in bed, impatiently waiting for him to return after she rashly suggested he could make her a cuppa to apologise for the invasion of her shower. She knows it is ridiculous as he is only downstairs, but if feels like he has been gone for ages and she misses him.
Eventually he comes in, bearing a tray, with a couple of steaming mugs and a pile of buttered toast, which he triumphantly sets on the bed before climbing in beside her.
"Here you are… hope you noticed this was achieved without the help of the smoke alarm."
"Well done, but what took you so long?"
"Sorry, had about a million messages from my mum about our visit today… I'm a tad worried that she might go over the top. She's taken the 'you not remembering them' thing to a new level and seems desperate to make a good impression, which in her books means cooking up a feast."
"She doesn't need to go to any trouble or try to make a good impression…"
"That's what I told her, but you know what she's like. I mean, you don't actually remember what she's like, but if you did remember, you'd know exactly what I mean. Does that make any sense at all?"
"Yes, I think so. Don't worry if she goes over the top. I'll be fine. I'm looking forward to meeting your parents. I'm hoping I'll remember them."
He suddenly looks anxious, "That would obviously be great, but you know there is no pressure to do so, no expectation of that."
She smiles appreciatively at him, "I know. Thank you."
He still looks anxious and she senses there is more he wants to say, but isn't sure how to do so, "What is it?"
"Well… Mum wondered if we would be just doing a day-trip or whether we'd like to stay over. I said I thought it might be a bit much, but that I'd check with you. But, if we did stay over, there's somewhere….. I'd like to take you for dinner…. but only if you'd like that?"
She grins at the realisation that despite everything they've shared over the last few hours, he's actually nervous.
"What like a date?"
"Yes. Somewhere special… to us."
"Well, how can I refuse that? Sounds like a plan. Will give me a good excuse to wear one of those posh frocks I've got hanging in my wardrobe."
-OG-
She is gathering a few pieces of make-up from her bedside table, to go into their overnight bag, when she comes across the half-finished pack of pills. She looks at them, with a grim realisation of her error, "Shit."
He's focussed on his own packing, "What's wrong?"
She sits on the bed, "My contraception. I've not been taking it. We might gonna have to take a detour to the pharmacy on the way to your parents and get the morning after pill."
He stops what he is doing and realises this is it… he has to tell her about the baby. There is no way he can allow her to take the morning after pill. He takes a couple of very deep breaths before coming around to her side of the bed and sitting beside her.
"Molly, you've not been taking the pill for a while, well…..about two months probably."
She looks incredulous and speaks before she has really had a chance to think about what she's saying, "Why, the bleeding hell would I stop taking my pill?".
He watches as the realisation comes to her.
"We're trying to get pregnant?"
"Yes, we decided to start trying for a baby a couple of months ago."
"Shit."
He watches as the colour drains from her face. He goes to put his arm around her.
"Are you ok?"
She shrugs him off and quickly stands up.
"No. I think I'm going to be sick."
She bolts from the room.
He's left, sat on the bed, feeling slightly sick himself, fearing that he has monumentally fucked up this hugely important moment. He follows her to the bathroom and kneels down beside her as she retches into the toilet. He tentatively helps to hold her hair out of the way, and gently rubs her back.
Eventually she stops throwing up and sits back, looking questioningly at him, "I'm pregnant, aren't I? Yesterday, today. It's morning sickness?"
He nods his head, looking her bravely in the eye, "I think it might be."
He stands up and helps her to her feet. She rinses her face in the sink before turning back to face him.
"You knew?"
He can hear the disbelief and disappointment in her voice and senses danger, choosing his words carefully, "I only found out when you were in hospital. Colonel Thomas told me when you regained consciousness. He said it is very early days, maybe 5-6 weeks."
"You knew and you didn't tell me?"
"You have to believe that I was going to tell you…."
He trails off as he helplessly watches as her anger takes hold.
"What? When the appropriate moment came up? How about when I threw up yesterday or when I suggested a drink last night? Oh, I know, how about before we had sex?"
"Please Molly, I wanted you to settle in at home, with me… maybe remember more about us before I told you."
"Well it strikes me you've been… what was that expression? Oh yes… very fucking economical with the truth."
He knows of course that she's right, he could, he should have told her at any of those times, but he miserably tries to explain what held him back.
"What was I supposed to do? You told me in hospital just a few days ago that you didn't want to be like your mum with hundreds of little bleeders running around your feet. I was scared about telling you. I'm sorry. Things have moved much quicker between us than I ever imagined possible."
Her voice is cold when she responds.
"Well, maybe that has been a mistake. I don't really know you. I don't know myself. Just a few half-baked memories of the last five years. I only know the version of us that you've told me."
She pushes past him and heads down the stairs, grabbing a coat and hastily putting on a pair of her shoes.
He follows her to the hallway.
"Molly, please."
She opens the front door.
"Don't. I'm going out. I need some space."
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know and I don't care. I just know I can't be here."
She leaves the house, slamming the door behind her.
"Molly?"
-OG-
Oh my, that didn't go too well did it….. please let me know what you think!