The rounds were close to perfect, but Eleanor could instantly tell something was off.

"Are you nervous?"

He lowered the DMR and sighed, dropping the empty magazine before sliding in a loaded one.

"Yeah. I mean, they're just a bunch of bloody suits. We're going to make a profit anyway, but… I dunno. I hate having to explain myself to anybody, especially some corporate wankers who only care about a pallet of coffee beans."

"Well, this is what farming's about, right? Selling off what you have."

"Yeah, but… I dunno."

He stared down the range at the targets, seemingly lost in thought. She looked at him while lowering her BR-55, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You'll do fine," she said.

He put a hand on top of hers and squeezed it gently, smiling through the pain as she did so. It had been about a week since the lion incident, and their relationship had gotten closer, if in fits and starts. The nights had been the same, the two in each other's arms, whispering old stories or whatever came to mind. He had to admit that she impressed him, opening little by little with every day. He was not sure why, maybe it was finally having someone to talk about such things with, maybe it was his advice to her about doing that, or… maybe she actually loved him too. He slightly blushed at the thought, surprisingly unnoticed by Ellen.

"H-how's the BR treating you?" he stammered, trying to right his thoughts.

"Fairly accurate. Of course, it burns through ammo quicker than your DMR."

"Well, that's the joy of three round bursts."

"You do know that this thing can switch to full and semi-auto, right?"

He stared at her in silence before rolling his eyes.

"It looks like a kid's toy."

"Really?"

"It just does."

"You're insufferable."

"You should know that by now."

"And yet I stay," she said, moving her hand to his cheek, stroking it with her index finger.

"Can't imagine why."

"You and me both."

"Maybe my charming smile was what sealed the deal. Well, what's left of it."

Her warm smile faded at the comment.

"I don't like you saying that."

"It happened, what the hell can I do? Get upset about it for the rest of my life?"

"You can do whatever you want, but you know how I feel about it."

He rubbed his repaired cheek and sighed.

"You're right, as usual. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. Are you done shooting?"

"Yeah, you?"

"I… haven't had the drive I used to have. I dunno."

"Maybe you just got spooked by that attack. God knows I did."

She shrugged as she packed away her rifle.

"I think you're more scared of these coffee guys than the Innies."

"Innies at least had the decency to be poor."

"I thought the subsidies-"

"Keep us above water, but if you hadn't noticed, we aren't exactly swimming in cash. And mum's stipend from the recovery group isn't paid until she gets back here, part of the tax-free status or something. If we can get a mil or two in credits, going by market prices, we'll be set for a few years."

"So, you're worried they won't pay well?"

"It costs a lot to farm, surprisingly. Especially when it's a niche crop like coffee. Well, niche for a place like Dzimba."

After months of caring for and managing his uncle's hair-brained crop scheme, members of a few of the largest coffee makers still existing would soon visit Avon Fields, to get a closer look at the product or hopefully make a production deal. Ian and his uncle were putting a high amount of hope for their success, but one could never tell, especially when it came to the types who ran those same companies.

"You'll be fine," she said absent-mindedly. "I've seen you go up against worse and win, so I wouldn't be too worried."

"I always worry," he mumbled.

XXXXXX

Welcome to Commsnet! Would you like to learn about our Ultimo Package?"

N

How can we help you today?

Connect to previously used contact

Do you mean Maria

Y

Establishing Connection! Please wait…

Connection established!

M: hi

E: hey

M: hows it going

E: fine

M: just fine?

E: yes

M: you make me laugh ellie

E: why

M: you keep talking to me and you just say that

E: its the truth

M: still funny to me

E: hes nervous today

M: oh

E: visit from some guys who want to buy their coffee

M: you never struck me as a farmer

E: i dont
i cook for them

M: ;)

E: don't start

M: you make it too easy

E: we havent really moved forward

M: the cuddling and all thats a good start

E: im worried im gonna mess something up

M: dont
that only makes it worse

E: should I try moving ahead

M: :O

E: just to
what did you call it
the baseball thing

M: second base?
ellie you haven't even gotten to first
actually you've barely gotten to bat

E: i dont get sports

M: kissings the first move

E: i

M: ellie you still there

E: i dont think i can do this

M: what did i tell you after that first night, you can't give up now

E: im scared

M: of what

E: not doing it right or messing it up

M: remember my advice

E: i know
but everytime i try it doesn't work

M: how

E: i get cold feet and stop

M: why

E: dunno
maybe the conditioning
or remembering mendez screaming in my ear to be a proper soldier
Is he dead yet

M: no

E: shame

M: hes not going to make the first move

E: what

M: if thats what youre hoping for it wont happen
I speak from experience
if you want him you have to prove it to him
because he has nothing to prove to you

E: you dont know him

M: i do know how men who like spartans act

E: true

M: i know its hard
it was for me
but the way youve talked about him ever since he confessed to you
you care about him

E: i know
but i wish it was easier

M: we all do

E: ill try somethin today
promise
maybe nothing dramatic but something

M: let me know if you do
im pulling for you ellie
(·ω·)

E: where did you learn that one

M: japanese marine
i like their emoticons

E: its cute

M: i know
point stands
take it
hes there and wants you
and you want him

E: what if its just platonic

M: platonic lovers dont cuddle at night
or tell their friends about them nonstop

E: i guess
hes calling for me
gotta go

M: ooooh he moves quick

E: whatever

M: good luck!

XXXXXX

"There you are. You talk to that Maria woman more than me at this point."

"Getting jealous?"

"Only a little bit. The guys just pulled in, five corporate types in polos and khakis. Look bloody ridiculous, but the fate of our financial future is in their hands. God help us."

She stood up from the computer desk and stretched, Ian barely unable to marvel at her physique. Now that they had a relationship- well, understanding- he was more open to showing affection or appreciating her. He was unsure if there was anything eye-catching about himself, but considering her lack of complaint or reproval, he continued to ogle.

"And I stay inside?"

"You're terrible with civvies first off, second, I doubt having you around will make them feel comfortable."

"What, having the safety of a Spartan nearby isn't enough?"

"I was thinking more "genetically modified super soldier that could break their necks in a single squeeze," but you think what you want."

"Whatever, I'm a better cook than a conversationalist anyway, right?"

"Yep. A woman who can cook, clean, and take care of herself. Perfect."

She looked at him before covering her face as he realized that maybe he had gone too far. He was about to apologize when he realized she wasn't hiding her annoyance. She was blushing.

"Do… you actually think I'm perfect?"

"W-well, I mean from a physical standpoint, probably as close as you can get. You got muscle, and you're athletic as hell, but it's not to the point of distraction."

"I see. And the other parts of me?"

"Well, you got a pretty face. And I like your hair. Where'd you get the ideas for the style?"

"Secret."

"Ah. Well, I like it more than the pixie you always had."

She nodded before composing herself slightly.

"Most men don't like women that are bigger than them. Height or size."

"Maybe I just have better taste."

She snorted at the comment before looking out the window to see Arthur speaking with the arrivals.

"You think he won't screw it up?"

"He's actually decent at business. Don't know which side of the family he got that from."

"And you're going to go out and do… what exactly?"

"Try to soften them up to give us a good deal. Being a wounded veteran still has a good amount of pull in my experience."

"I wouldn't know."

"And I don't expect you to."

They continued to watch his uncle for a few minutes before he made a strange arm movement, something that looked like a stretch.

"Ah, there's my queue. Wish me luck."

"Break a leg," she said.

"What?"

"I heard that's a way of wishing luck. Never understood it though. Why would you want to break a leg?"

"That's an acting thing. Unc taught me to think of actors and their ilk like the Romans did."

"And that is?"

Ian grinned at her.

"Little better than prostitutes or the lowest scum of the Earth."

"Some of those movies you own certainly give credence to that. Thankfully, the actual pornography you own is all in magazine form."

"Jesus, can you let that go now? I keep it for nostalgic purposes."

This earned a reproving glare from the Spartan but realizing that nothing she could say would change his mind, simply shrugged.

"You should get out there. I'll start cooking dinner."

"Alright. Maybe I'll break a leg."

"Metaphorically please, we have enough issues."

"No promises," he said as he stepped out of the room.

XXXXXX

"...most of the beans are originally Arabica. Mostly from Tanzania."

Unc was pointing out the massive stack of canvas bags in the storehouse, pulling a handful out and offering it to the businessmen. A mix of Americans, Japanese, and even an Ethiopian were among the guests, all following the two farmers during an hour-long tour.

"What's your average production?" one of the Yanks asked.

"Given we have about 400-500 acres of coffee trees," Ian cut in quickly, "Average production has been about 1-2 pounds per tree for a year, about 1750 plants an acre…"

He watched with amusement as the men began to do the mental calculations.

"So," the Japanese one answered to no one's surprise, "about 700,000 plants."

"At least. And with the market price of coffee per pound at about 2 credits, we're looking at an average of 1.4 million in cash. And that's going low."

The others nodded in agreement, some surprised at the price. Most coffee was grown in small, barely subsistence farming areas and plantations were still rare, especially in the outer colonies.

"And does it taste good?" the Ethiopian queried.

"Try some," Unc said, handing a set of fresh samples in small Styrofoam cups.

Judging by their reactions to the taste test, the Dzimban sun had been kind to the plants. One of the Americans now spoke up.

"What about diseases? Arabica has a bad habit of dying from rust and such."

"Well, our environment is still fairly untouched by that, but I think not spraying it with chemicals also adds to the taste."

And the cost, Ian thought.

"And what about the Insurrectionist issue? I read this very farm was attacked a few weeks ago."

"An unfortunate rarity. And given the cooling of political tempers, it's doubtful to happen ever again."

The businessmen seemed satisfied with the answer, finishing their drinks before setting the cups down.

"We need to make a profit, but we're willing to enter a production deal with whoever makes an offer we like."

The group broke away, either doing the math or conferring with themselves. There must have been three companies all looking for a supplier, which was good news for the Walls, considering the benefits of capitalism allowing for competition, which meant better payoffs for them. Ian started getting nervous again, pacing and rubbing his repaired cheek. Unc took notice and chuckled.

"Boy, I know you hate this shite, you want to walk off for a little bit?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"You can walk the walk and talk the talk, but you never had patience. I got it from here. You got a phone on you?"

"Yeah."

"I'll call you if I need you."

"You sure?"

"Just get out of here. I think you're freaking out that Galla there. Scarface look isn't helping here."

"Fine. If you need me-"

Unc waved him off as he went back to the farmhouse. He opened the front door and looked around for Ellen, finding no one. He worried for a moment before finding a written note on the kitchen counter, simply reading "Went for a walk." That didn't help narrow down where she was, but the thought of being alone with her, away from Unc and the cat, was more enticing than sitting around and being nervous. He went outside and walked off towards the edge of the farm, moving through the harvested trees for almost ten minutes before he saw her.

"What's up?" she asked non-chalantly, holding a few 7.62mm rounds pulled from the dirt.

"Wanted to get away for a bit. Where'd you find those?"

"Around here. I guess the DLF guys left them. Corroded from sitting around so long. Know where we can dispose them?"

"Nope."

She sighed and sat down in the dry dirt, looking through the trees.

"Ian, I… am I doing this right?"

"Doing what right?"

"This relationship. I feel like I'm not doing enough. Or I'm not good at it."

He looked at her and shrugged.

"I never expected you to be. Hell, I'm surprised we've even gotten this far."

"I've been getting advice from trusted sources. And research on my own."

"Oh?"

"It-it's just I… feel something. I just don't know if I'm ready for anything or ever will be."

He sat next to her, putting an arm around the back of her neck and patting her shoulder, pulling the two close together.

"Look. I understand. And maybe nothing will come of this. I don't know. I barely know anything about Spartans, and somedays I think I barely know you, even though we both know that's true and false at the same time. But I think we just need to move at our own pace. I don't want to rush into anything and make you feel uncomfortable. We don't have to be physical, you know that?"

She nodded.

"Just having you here has kept me pretty stable, and I'm frankly happy with that."

"But I want to be physical."

He looked at her in surprise, not expecting any answer like that.

"Uh… what?"

"If we're together like this, it-I-oh."

She buried her hands in her face, both from embarrassment and an inability to say what she wanted. She lowered them and sighed again.

"I want to be normal. At least at some things. I like being a Spartan, believe it or not. Better senses, physical perfection, all that. I'm better than most emotionally, being open to the lower soldiers, as you've noticed, but I still… it's like my body wants to do some things, just barely, and my mind shuts it down. And I want us to be together like a normal pair, and it's not happening. And it's so damn frustrating Ian. I can't figure my thoughts out, and I'm worried that I never will."

"Ellen, you don't have to. You've made great progress this last week. Can you imagine a month or two ago, let alone when we were being sent into every combat zone possible, that you'd be sleeping in the same bed as me? And… you know, cuddling and that nonsense?"

He said the last sentence with a hint of his own embarrassment. Somehow, despite pouring his heart out to her, he still felt like a schoolkid talking to his crush. They slept with each other, no touching of course, but neither of them seemed to do much. Ellen for obvious reasons, but him… was he a coward? He shook his head and looked back at her.

"We'll figure it out. We always did."

"True."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

"Even after everything, you still like being a Spartan?"

"Of course. It came at a cost, but look at what I could do. Even with how people reacted to me, I was respected. Able to do things no one else could, change a battle in our favor. If only the Navy could do as well on their ships."

"Yeah, ain't that the truth?"

"I got to be a hero. An actual hero. Like Achilles."

She smiled at the thought before she sat up a bit and closed her eyes.

"Rage - Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,
great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion,
feasts for the dogs and birds,
and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end.
Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed,
Agamemnon, lord of men and brilliant Achilles."

Ian gave a golf clap for a few moments, much to her amusement.

"Impressed?"

"Very. Unc's been teaching you."

"Spartans can learn quickly. Mostly for weapon systems and manuals, but I like using my abilities for personal use."

"No one's stopping you."

"I know. I enjoy it."

They were quiet again before she spoke up.

"You ever feel like a hero Ian?"

"Me?"

He thought it over and shook his head.

"Nah. I'm just a regular soldier. Farmer's son before that. Some people become heroes, but almost everyone is just a background character to their deeds. You think any of those Trojans or Achaeans are remembered? Achilles and Hector get all the glory, and I'm fine with that. You'll get a statue or something, I'll just get a nice tombstone next to dad, and that's good with me."

"I'll remember you."

"Thanks. Maybe you'll write a memoir. I'm surprised no Spartan's done that."

"Well, there's a few reasons. Top secret, no time to do so… and frankly I wouldn't trust some of my brothers and sisters to write a children's book, let alone a good novel."

Ian laughed at that, stopping for a second to grab his check. She turned sullen at the action, which he noticed.

"It's still gonna be a bit before I can get used to it again. Doc says that the muscle is healing, but it'll take a bit of pain."

He rubbed her shoulder to try and comfort her before he suddenly thought of something.

"Actually, I did feel like a hero once. When I was a kid."

"Really?"

"Yeah. So, I was about 12 or so, and the schooling system around here wasn't exactly stellar, especially for an Anglo kid given our area. Class of about 20 kids had 15 Africans and 5 Euros, optimistically. One of them, since I was 6, was this girl named Anna. Dirty blonde pigtails with freckles, pale as a ghost, even after spending half her life here. Dad was an insurance guy who moved here for the job."

"Ah."

"Well, she got picked on a lot, but I always had a bit of a crush on her. Her dad gets moved to Earth, last year on Dzimba. I decide to do something, right? I start to ask her out, but Charlie Bvuyne, little shit he was, starts picking on her. So instead of asking her, I wait until we get let out of school and start walking home. Then I ask him if he wants to make fun of her anymore, and he goes after her again. So I walk up and sock him in the jaw. Knock three teeth out of that big mouth of his."

"Wow," Ellen said, surprised that he had ever lost his temper.

"Yep. He was a popular kid and had a few friends, so they try to come and help him, I take one down with a kick to the bollocks, another with a lucky hit in the neck as Anna ran off to safety."

"So you won the day?"

"Sort of. Actually, Charlies other friends came in, went 4 on 1 and kicked the piss out of me."

"Oh."

'Had bruises for weeks. But after getting and dusting myself off, busted and bleeding lip, limping back here, Anna comes alongside me, and we walk home together. Didn't say a thing. Then I get to the road that leads to the farmhouse and she stops and kisses me. Says she appreciated it and then ran off back to her home."

He grinned at the memory for a minute or two before finishing the story.

"Felt like a hero. Could've taken the Covies then and might have won."

Ellen giggled at the statement.

"What happened after that?"

"Charlie never gave her any issues. Only a few months before she left, but we spent them together. I was on cloud nine I'll tell ya. Then she left. Hurt, but had to happen."

"You hear from her again?"

"Once when I joined up. Haven't heard anything since."

He frowned and looked at the dirt.

"Hope she's ok."

"I do too."

He patted her shoulder again.

"Thanks Ellen. Hey, I wanted to-"

He stopped, grabbing at his pocket suddenly. He put the buzzing phone to his ear, waving at her as an apology.

"Yeah?"

He listened for a few seconds before standing up.

"What?"

Ellen tensed up, concerned at his reaction.

"When?"

He spent a minute or two listening in before nodding.

"Yeah. You need me back there?"

Another pause.

"Got it. Yeah, you too."

Ian ended the call and looked out into the fields, a blank, stunned stare on his face. She stood and slowly reached a hand to his shoulder.

"Ian, are you alright?"

"We needed about 1.6 million to make a profit. Enough to keep us afloat for a couple of years and do it again."

"And?"

He swallowed and let out a slow breath.

"Dotshima Inc. just offered us 4.5 mil for our current stock. No production deal, but..."

Ellen looked at him, processing the information.

"That's good?"

Ian smiled; his eye twitching slightly in pain.

"It's better than good. We're set for years! Buyer said that they needed stock ASAP to get in on the market and they'd make a profit anyways, but the others wanted in too. People want coffee again and they'll pay extra for good organic stuff."

He shook his head in disbelief.

"We thought we'd be lucky with 2 but… holy shit!"

He laughed, making a slight run before leaping into the air, letting out a whoop of joy.

"We did it!"

She smiled at his reaction. He was never one to show his emotions so easily, especially anything happy, so to see him like this…

"Coffee kings of Dzimba! Ha!"

He jogged back and nearly tackled her with an embrace.

"We did it Ellen! We did it! We're going to be set for years! We'll be able to get new equipment, fix up everything… goddamn, when you haven't won in years, it feels good!"

"It does," she said, slowly moving her arms around him as she reciprocated the hug.

She was finally getting used to this, but it still had more than a little work needed to truly get to the level she wanted. He broke off and moved back to get a good look at her, thinking he could not imagine something better. He thought about getting lottery tickets. Had he not survived a farm attack, started a relationship with a Spartan, and sold his farm's crop at a ludicrous profit? All in a few weeks? How could anything go wrong?

Unfortunately, the small coffee plant he tripped on could give a quick answer.

He stumbled, but regained his bearings, at least able to not fall down. His foot, however, bent at an unhealthy angle, and the sudden burst of pain made him yelp. Ellen rushed over to him, helping him stay upright.

"Are you ok?"

"No, twisted my ankle. Damn!"

"It doesn't look broken. Can you walk?"

She let go of him as he moved forward a step or two before groaning and nearly collapsing.

"I'll take that as a no," she said, grabbing his arm.

"Yeah."

Ian looked up at her and sighed.

"You think you can carry me back to the house?"

"Of course I could. But do I want to?"

Ian frowned at the comment.

"Well, I would-"

He could barely finish before he was swept off his feet, one arm wrapped around his back, the other below his knees. He looked at her face, one of proud smugness.

"The old Princess Carry, Color Sergeant?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Well, it's better than the last time you did it."

She frowned as she started walking towards the farmhouse.

"Can we not talk about Criterion? And how did you find out about that?"

Ian grinned as he looked at her, unbothered about being held as he was. After all, it beat limping all the way.

"Are you kidding? Seb gave me shit for months. Asked who was the man of the house."

He bit his lip and chuckled nervously.

"And who was in charge in the bedroom."

"Sounds like Seb," she quickly replied, not wanting to get any further into the topic.

"Yeah. Bloody Tuga. Always talking smack and never able to take it back. I'll tell you, if you could put a windmill in front of his mouth, you'd be able to power a whole city. Guy could never…"

Ellen lost focus, Ian talking but her brain not registering any of his words. She looked back at him, just watching him. He looked so happy, full of life, a complete 180 from what he was normally: stoic, reserved, cynical. Did she make him this way? Was it the good news? Her mind was roiling before a thought came to her mind. This. This was her chance.

"Ian?"

"Yeah?"

"I..."

She bobbed her head, taking a few nervous breaths.

"If I do this wrong, I apologize."

"Er-"

She pulled the arm across his back towards her, their faces level.

"Uh, Ellen, this kind of hurts."

"Ian, I'm sorry."

"I mean, not that much but-"

She moved her head towards his and almost hesitated, but fought through the urge.

Then she kissed him.

XXXXXX

It had taken about 19 weeks to train and prepare Ian for a life in the Light Infantry. Ruthless drills, high standards, and vicious instructors so harsh that when he saw combat, he was more afraid of the sergeants in peaked caps than the Covenant. But on his first assignment, the newbie attached to a squad of veterans, he assisted in preparing a trap of unthinkable proportions for the aliens. Using left over Colonial Militia munitions; they prepared a bunker to vaporize a massive convoy heading towards a small city. Having prepared and found the right moment to do it, he was given the honor of pulling the detonators trigger. All he could remember was the bright flash and earth-shattering quake beneath his feet. The biggest memory was of the flash, going blind from the pure spectacle.

And that was exactly what he felt when her lips touched his.

It was not the finest kiss, or one that would be remembered as very romantic, but it was unexpected. She pulled back for a second, her cheeks flushed in a bright red hue.

"Did I do that right?"

Ian blinked at her, still in a daze.

"What?"

"Did I do that right? I got some tips from Maria and... I was just worried that I couldn't-"

"Ellen?"

"Sorry, I-"

He put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her in again, taking the lead. Her lips were soft, warm, tantalizingly so. He thought about using his tongue, but this was too much for her already. He pulled back, a thin string of spit connecting their lips before dropping to the ground.

"I-is that understandable?" he stammered, completely out of his element.

She stared back at him, equally confused and shocked.

"Er-yeah," she quickly answered.

The two tried to look into each other's eyes, but both failed miserably. The point was across, what else did they need?

"You... wanna head back?" Ian asked.

"Yeah. Let's get that foot fixed."

"Alrighty."

They arrived to find the businessmen long gone, Unc in a celebratory mood. She dropped him on his feet on the veranda, walking in as they tried to hide whatever emotions were tearing through them at that moment.

Beef Wellingtons ready!"

"Oh God-er, great! Thanks, Unc!"

He looked at the two and quickly realized something was amiss.

"You two alright?"

"Yes," they answered in unison, raising his suspicions more.

"What's wrong with your foot?"

"Twisted my ankle."

"You know where the medkit is."

"You could at least get it for me."

"I'm your uncle, not your bloody servant."

Ellen sighed and moved off to the bathroom to fetch it. As she did so, Unc moved closer to Ian.

"Does she know?"

"Of course."

"Does she understand?"

"Yep."

"Is she happy?"

Ian paused and looked back at her, the taste of her lips still at the forefront of his mind.

"I think she is," he said with a grin.

Unc interpreted this as a joke and shrugged. He had a bit of cooking and a lot of partying to do.

XXXXXX

Given the events of the day, Ian had hoped the night would be better, in a lot of ways. But it was silent and awkward, Ellen having snuck into his room as she had ever since that moment at the oak tree, but simply laying down next to him and facing away. Had he done something wrong? Gone too fast? But she was the one who started it! He thought about going to sleep, but then she spoke.

"Ian?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you ok?"

"My foots better."

"Good."

Another painful silence followed, almost unbearable. Action spoke louder than words, as dad always said, so he decided to do so. He put a hand on her shoulder, which she jolted at, still looking away from him.

"Do you want to talk about that kiss?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

"I did it wrong."

"I thought you did fine."

She seemed to be thinking her response over, taking a few moments.

"Are you being honest?"

"Of course I am."

"I just don't want to screw this up."

"Christ's sake Ellen, you're doing fine. Hell, considering the average Spartan, you're probably the most romantic one of your kind! Well, except that one who had a kid. Is she romantic too?"

"She is. Even is-" she paused to sigh. "Teaching me a few things."

"Oh really? Like what?"

"The bases. That kind of thing."

"Ooooh. Anything unique?"

"She did say if I was... in charge, not sure what she meant, I had to be slow, because I could break something."

Ian chuckled at this tip, shaking his head.

"Well, if you were on top, I wouldn't mind. I'm a man's man, but I know a golden opportunity when it looks me in the face."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Suddenly, he felt the bed shake, and in a flash, her arms were on both sides of his head, her massive frame over him. She looked down at him, her blank stare making the action even more bizarre.

"Prove it," she said flatly.

"Holy shit," he muttered, his mouth going dry.

Then she smirked slightly at the sign of weakness from him, and he could not take that lying down, literally and metaphorically. He wrapped one arm around her neck, the other around her back. He pulled her face down to his and kissed her again. This time, there was no shock, and... maybe, just maybe, passion. He felt her arms wrap around him; his body reflexively trembling as she did so. He could feel hers doing the same, if more controlled and focused. He broke off the kiss, both panting after being too focused to remember to breathe.

"God you're big," he said dumbly.

"Really? Just figure that out?" she said with a hint of snark.

He released one arm and ran it across her abdomen, feeling the muscles, tough as rock, before moving slowly up to the edge of her uniform bra. For the first time ever, he took a good look at her breasts. She wasn't flat chested, but she wasn't all that endowed either. She noticed his curiosity and averted her gaze briefly.

"Don't look at them."

"What?"

"They're not that great compared to some women."

"They're perfectly fine."

"I... what are you doing exactly?"

"Second base," he said matter of factly.

She looked back at him before rubbing the back of her neck.

"R-right. Well, let me do the same."

He felt her hands on his sides, surprisingly soft given the business she was involved in.

"Like that?"

"Do whatever you want. I'm all yours."

He cringed at the statement almost immediately, but she didn't notice, continuing to run her hands across him.

"What was this scar from?"

"Moa attack."

She giggled at the answer.

"Don't laugh," he chided. "They're a menace when you piss one off."

"What did you do?"

"Still don't know. Drove its beak into me and ran off. Bloody bird."

"Well, I think that's enough of second base. W-what about third?"

He looked her in the eyes and swallowed.

"Are you sure you want to go that far?"

"W-we're here already, aren't we?"

"Where's this sudden confidence coming from?"

She grinned, stroking his cheek.

"I got you where I want you."

"True," he conceded.

He felt her hands moving lower than his abs, but she stopped, almost as if she was about to touch a landmine. She suddenly lowered herself onto him, kissing him again. He ran one hand across her arm, the other on her side. She was getting better with every attempt. Then, he lowered his one hand from her side, starting to feel a painful stretch as he moved his hand across her abs again to the edge of her boxers. She was focused on kissing him and made no response. He took his shot and pulled on the piece of clothing to get the party really started, to do the impossible and-

She broke off the kiss, her face suddenly pale as she untangled herself from him, rolled off, and sat on the edge of the bed, her arms covering her chest.

"Ellen! I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"No, it's fine, I just..."

She was panting slightly, embarrassed and frightened. Ian sat up and put a hand on her shoulder, which she patted with her own.

"I'm not ready to go there yet."

He nodded and let go of her shoulder.

"Of course. I'm sorry."

"No, it's me, not you."

Silence fell again as the two breathed heavily, still recovering from the foreplay.

"I need to get some water. You want any?"

"Sure."

"Alright."

She got up from the bed and walked to the kitchen, Ian being left alone as the door closed. He flopped his head back onto the pillow, angry at himself. He went too far, not considering her. She was cautious, and had every right to be and he literally wanted to plow through-

His face crumpled at the poor choice of words, but the point stood.

"Goddammit," he mumbled, looking down at the rest of his body.

He groaned as he saw the circus tent that formerly was his underwear.

"So close and yet so far," he muttered.

He pulled the sheets over him to restore some modesty as Ellen walked back into the room, two glasses of water in her hands. She handed him one before crawling back into bed, covering herself as well. She was facing him, one hand stroking his cheek.

"I'm sorry Ian," she whispered.

"Don't apologize for nothing serious."

"It's just-"

He put a finger on her lips and winked at her.

"Just get some sleep."

She nodded and pulled the covers over her.

"Good night, Ian."

He leaned over and kissed her.

"Night Ellen. I love you."

He sank back into his pillow and closed his eyes, heading off into sleep. He felt better when she was next to him. Maybe he always did. But he never would have imagined, during those long romps and setting up sniper posts during the war, that he would ever be in bed with her. Before he slipped off, he heard something, but was not sure if it was her or the beginning of a dream.

He could have sworn it sounded like "I love you too."